District 44
by Meglin15
Summary: Did you ever wonder what life is like in other places of the world when Panem's revolution was over? Join Vivron in The Isles' 93rd Hunger Games and see what life is like for the rest of them. Please Review! Completely OCs (Except for Beetee). After Third Book.
1. Chapter 1

**District 44**

**Chapter 1**

Life in The Isle is tough. Tougher than in Panem. In Panem, people had the chance to revolt. Here, we can't. People here live in constant fear that if they do the tiniest thing, step out of line for even a second, their lives would end. Here, Peacekeepers don't have any mercy. Just the other day I witnessed a public flogging of a man. I don't know his name or what he does. Did, I mean. But I do know why he was flogged. Why he was beaten senseless and repeatedly till he was on the edge of death itself, then dragged away into The Hall. He questioned why April Snow, Panem's Presidents granddaughter, had been smuggled out of a prison in Panem.

We all know what really happened in Panem. Prime Minister Nitro Snow tried to show us a broadcast about what a failure their revolution was and how we should never even think about doing it ourselves because of the casualties and loss of life. But, in District 44, we're not so easily fooled. Being the only District that serves as entertainment to the Capitol, means we control what's televised and what's televised and what's hidden away. But sometimes we let things slip through. For our eyes only of course. If the Capitol had seen what we've seen there'd be panic on a scale greater than they can control.

Believe it or not, even though we are the District that entertains the entire Isle, we are still the poorest. No, we're not the smallest District. That would be District 17, which is strange considering their main output is Power. But I've heard there aren't that many sectors in District 17 so their Games aren't that big and don't last that long.

That's another reason life here is harder than over there. Every year, as punishment for being here, we have 44 Hunger Games all being held at the same time. Each Sector offer up a male or a female, dependant on the year, and they compete in a District Hunger Games. Then the Champions of those Games compete in a huge Game to be Champion of Champions. A Victor to go down in history as a God.

In District 44, amazingly we have 2 Victors still alive. There was Theodore Adams. Last year he passed away at the age of 72. He was quite old and was the first District Champion. Herbert Benson is 24 years old. He won his Games 6 years ago when he was 18. Then there is Steenie Watson. At 32, she has a family. Two sons. I've never met them though. They don't go to school. They get taught at home by their father who is a retired professor. I know it is young to be retired at 35 but being family of a Victor gives you special treatment.

By 'Special Treatment' I mean immortality from the reaping's. All of them have no worries because they won't have their babies go into the horrifically gory Games. They don't live near me either. They live with The Centre. The Centre is where all the talented people live and work. It's located in the centre of the District. They don't mingle with us. With the commoners. With the filth. Not all of us are talented. They need people to wait on those who are. That's what I'm being taught to do.

If I was ever reaped from the glass bowl I would try to win. For Teddy, my little brother. We don't live with our parents or family. Mainly because they're dead. I don't remember who they even were. That's why we live in Legacy Hall. People would take one look at me and think I'm an easy target. But I'm not.

I know how to fight. I mean the technique of it anyway. I watch carefully when the Games are on. You need to, just in case. I first started to watch when I was six. Your chance to get reaped starts at 10 and ends at 19. Being 15 I am a strong competitor. Not that I wasn't to go in because believe me I don't. I can't compete against 118 other people.

That's right. 118.

More than in Panem. If their Mockingjay has seen such terrible things then maybe she should see what happens over here. Oh wait, she's too worried about getting married to that Peeta fellow. Apparently he went insane. He should come here. See the most insane people on The Isle. The most disease spreading. 10 people die out here every day. Does the Capitol care? No.

They care about whether they are at risk, whether their evening will be spoiled by a few deaths. Turns out that neither will be true. Ever, it seems. They made sure of that. Upon entering The Centre you are scanned, sprayed with disinfected and injected with a vaccination that lasts for 2 weeks.

My question is 'why don't the people of Panem help us?' I mean, it's been five years since they successfully overthrew their Snow. Why can't we be helped melting ours? After all, Prime Minister Nitro Snow is the brother of President Snow. Nitro is not happy with them. Obviously. That's why he smuggled Miss April Snow out of there. To protect her from them. I don't know what they would have done if she hadn't of escaped. Might have killed her. I heard rumours about another Hunger Games but with Capitol children. I would back that. Although we talk of death a lot doesn't mean we want to kill everyone. Sector 12 has a reputation for being soft. That's why I don't fit in.

There are 119 Sectors in District 44. The Sectors are where towns used to be before the Core Shakes. We learnt about them in History of our Isle class. Core Shakes came from the core of the earth shattering its surface. Tsunami's washed over lands killing many species of animals. But man managed to survive. Scraping by, by the skin of their teeth. Then the glorious Capitol rose up from the rubble. An army of intelligent, strong men and women who are in every way better than us. They built their apartment blocks from multi-coloured glass and began to control districts, one by one. Forcing their way across The Isle until, finally, they controlled everything. Ultimate power for the ultimate race. Back then District 44 didn't exist. It was a barren wasteland that the Capitol decided was too precious to waste so they built it up bit by bit and rounded up all the talented people from the Capitol and other Districts to live there and then sent others to do their servant work.

Cruel is the word I'd use to describe them. Other words would include; merciless, stuck up and rude. I would never call them that to their faces though. Cameras everywhere, you see. Even in the Dormitories. Anyway, I'd call them cruel. Even President Snow told them it was a bad idea. But they didn't listen. They have a special weapon back in The Capitol. They can vote. Not an ordinary vote either. A cruel, evil, psychotic vote. They call in when the Games are on and vote who they want to kill. Their excuse? There are too many children to just leave. They would take forever to kill each other. So they need to keep the initial Games short. Also, it's more entertaining that way.

Barbaric, that's what it is. But I can't share it with anyone else I'll be publically executed. I'd rather die in the street like everyone else. I never really liked being in the spot light. I prefer to be in the shadows. Just a normal person, nothing interesting to look at. Except maybe my hair. It's burgundy. I hate it but the other girls seem to like it and there's no way of getting rid of it. Unless I shave it all off, but that is not an option. I can live with people staring at me.

I only have three main friends. Twila, Dora and Joumana. They live in the same dorm as me. There are two other girls in my dorm too but I don't know them. They don't know me. That's the way we like it. They're sixteen anyway so they'll be leaving soon. We'll get two new roommates. I hope they won't be noisy or want to be friends. I don't like a lot of company. I prefer it when I'm alone. It's always been like that. Even when I was little I preferred to be on my own.

"The girl in the shadows" Twila calls me.

Maybe she's right. But I don't care if I'm alone. It gives me time to think. Think about tomorrow. Think about the reaping. My names only been in there five times. Teddy's name isn't in this year. Only girls this year for Sector 12. It was the boys last year. I remember the fear last year. I was stood behind the scratchy brown rope with all of the Sector 12's boys families. When Sector 12 was called forward to the reaping I felt all the blood drain from my face in anguish and fear. My heart leapt up into my throat, thinking that he might never come back through those doors. The family's reactions are all taped to show the Capitol, but I didn't care what I did. I just wanted so desperately for him to come back. Then the buzzer sounded. Signalling one boy had been chosen. Then the door swung open. About 70 boys all walked out solemnly back to their chairs. There, right at the back was Teddy. He smiled at me as he caught my eye. And then it happened.

The woman next to me clutching a baby started screeching. I stood there in complete shock at this mess of a woman. But I knew instantly who she was. Well, I knew her son from school. Jake Flynn, a year older than me. Nice boy. Or was a nice boy. All she would get, she knew, was a piece of paper with his goodbyes on it. I wanted to help, to hug her, to tell her it would be ok, that he was a strong boy but I just stood there as helpless as a fish out of water. Then the guards came and took her away into a room where all the tributes' families are.

Teddy's worried as usual. He gets worried about everything. Paranoia, Mrs McClaven says. She's the lady who runs Legacy Hall. A small chubby woman, who makes any room silent whenever she enters. Terrifying. Always a punishment for this, a punishment for that. Throughout my life here I've only been hit nine times. Which is impressive compared to others. I caught on quite quickly when I was younger, about things not to do. I've been here since I was four and Teddy was one. Nine times in eleven years isn't bad. Since I turned thirteen I have grown up quite a bit so I don't get shouted at so much. Everyone knows what happens inside Legacy Hall and others like it around The Isle, but no one does anything. No one cares about the orphans.

But I don't care about them. The bleak peeling walls of Legacy Hall take the fun out of you. Well, not everyone but they've certainly done it to me. I used to run around the fields with my friends or by myself but I've stopped now. That's for children.

The dorm isn't much better. It has nicer coloured walls but they are dull and peeling too. Dora has potential as an artist, Mrs McClaven says, and so has all her beautiful drawings up. Those give us something to be happy about. We all have a secure future. Dora is going to paint people's portraits, Twila is going to be a dancer for Tilda, a local celebrity everyone loves, and Joumana is going to be an editor for music videos. Well that's the dream but they'll probably end up painting apartments, dancing in a show for 40 people and a television operator. As for me I play piano. I've always admired it. But I don't have big dreams. I only want to play the piano in a café in the Capitol. No big dreams for me.

Joumana jumps on my bed startling me from my daydream.

"Hey Vivron. Did you not hear us? We were talking about the reaping. How many times has your name been in?" she beamed at me. Even in these times she still has the ability to be happy.

Without meeting her eyes, I said "Five times."

"Well, that's not that bad; I heard Zelda Ball had her name puts in 27 times." Encouraged Dora.

"Yeah, and Miriam Hurst has over 38 times. So, I think we'll be fine." Confirmed Twila. Her tone as silky soft as ever. You can't stay mad at Twila; she's the kindest, most loyal girl I have ever met. I still can't believe her parents left her here in the middle of the night when she was seven. If I was her I would never forgive them.

My parents are dead. Killed by the Capitol. They hid Teddy and I away so that when we grow up we wouldn't be a tribute. They kept us in the cellar below the shack they lived in. I don't know whether that would have been a good idea. I mean, we couldn't stay in there our whole lives. I can remember the cellar a little. I was four when I left it so the only things I remember are the days when I was scared. I remember the darkness that you couldn't see through at all. I remember the cramped conditions. Until Teddy came along I was alone. So alone I started talking to myself. I still do sometimes. Calms me down. People who walk past me on the street shoot glances. Some worried, some sympathetic, some scared. But I don't care.

"Time for bed girls" instructed Mrs McClaven.

In routine, the girls in the dorm got up from wherever they were and climbed into bed. Tucking myself into bed I stared up at the ceiling, not being able to put the thought out of my head.

"You know the rules." Mrs McClaven didn't say much but you knew that if you didn't do what she said, you'd be punished. Things only said in a stern way, she never showed any other emotion. No pity, no mercy, no love. She left the room and I could hear her heels getting further away down the corridor.

I look to my left and saw the look of fear on everyone's faces. Slowly I reached up and feeling for the light switch saw the lights in the corridor go out. Finally finding the switch, I switched the lights out and lay back on my bed. The only light source is the small red dot emanating from the fire alarm. Not bright enough to light up anything but bright enough to see the outline of the fire alarm.

Slowly, I became drowsy. I knew what my dreams would be filled with. Not dreams but nightmares. And all for tomorrow. Tomorrow is reaping day. And I don't feel lucky.


	2. Chapter 2

**District 44**

**Chapter 2**

A bell. A long piercing sound. That's what we're woken up by. But me? I'd been awake for hours. I had tried to sleep but I just awoke terrified. So I just stared into the darkness, just trying to figure out all my worries.

Sleepily sitting up, I swung my legs off the bed and onto the cold hard floor. Although we have a carpet it's threadbare and still cold on my bare feet in the mornings. Even though it's spring. The flowers outside are blooming and colours fill the scenes of everyone's boring lives.

I walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The bright light of the sun glared at us through the smudged windows. I opened the window slowly and it creaked. There was no breeze. I leant out and breathed in the air, felt the warmth of the sun on my cheeks as the others left the room.

"Nice day, for a reaping." I said, under my breath.

"Vivron, close that window and prepare to be taken to the reaping. Now?" The voice said.

I spin round to see Mr Tallagh-Patch standing at the door. He is a kind, small man who wears a pair of tiny circled glasses which always sit on the end of his nose. He has hardly any hair and warm eyes that great you after you've been punished.

"Yes, Mr Tallagh-Patch." I nodded. Even though he is kind I'm scared he'd tell Mrs McClaven if I didn't do what he said, immediately. So, that leads me here. To the girls communal bathroom where no-one looks at each other, nervous faces that you may never see again. All silent. Creepy, so I just splash warm water on my face and brush my teeth not even talking to my friends.

When I finish, I walk down the corridor, which smells of damp. I turn into my dorm. On my bed, as well as everyone else's, is the customary brown shirt we have to wear. Being in sector twelve means our colour is chocolate brown. I've always despised the colour. Not because its chocolate colour and I've never eaten chocolate but because I look odd in it. Brown never really suited me. Maybe it is my hair or my skin tone but whenever I put it on I look strange. Don't suppose the Capitol care much about how the Tributes look now. Just after their chosen. So I shrug and change into the top and black trousers. I slump down on my bed and slip on the customary rubber soled shoes. Across the toes there is a stripe of brown. So they can tell where you're from but I don't think it's necessary.

I feel someone place their hands on mine and I turn to see Twila. She smiles at me but its short lived.

"Here, I was going to give it to you for your birthday but I thought I'd give you now..." Her voice quietening to a whisper.

"Just in case I'm chosen." I finish.

She hands me a small blue box.

"Open it." She whispers.

I click open the lid. Inside is a golden necklace with a round golden charm, engraved on it 'Smile'. So I do.

"You like it?" She asks.

"Of course, it'll be my token from home." I turn and hug her tightly.

Another shrieking bell that startles us. We half-heartedly smile at each other one last time and make our way down the deserted corridors, down the silent steps and out into the street. People have gathered outside their houses. The old, the young, the sick, the sick, they're all there. Watching all the girls dressed in identical clothes, walk down the road silently with their families. Of course we're escorted in a large group by Mrs McClaven and Mr Tallagh-Patch because we don't have families. Women and young girls step forward and delicately throw flowers onto the road. A tradition they do every year. It's to show hope and belief and always a goodbye. I like it. Sometimes.

I'm at the back with Mr Tallagh-Patch. I look frantically through the crowds to find him. To find my little brother. There, at the back I caught a glimpse of his pale face, tears welling up in his big brown eyes, threatening to roll but then I see Kip Clark. The boy who I trust with my life, to look after Teddy. He nods at me and I nod back. He throws something and it lands at my feet. I pick up the daisy. The flower I picked when we first met. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself unable to breathe steadily. I sway and Mr Tallagh-Patch takes my arm, and guides me on.

But my mind is still racing. Memories of Kip and Teddy crowd my brain and it starts to ache. I feel queasy. As quickly as I felt it I run to the side and throw up on the street. I feel a pair of arms wrap round me and I see Kip. His eyes full of worry.

"Vivron? Are you ok?" he asks.

"I'm fine. I'm just…just…" I stammer.

He takes my hand. "Look at me, you'll be ok. You're stronger than you realise. Show them what they want to see. Show them you won't give up, no matter what. Remember; don't show them your weakness."

I nod. I know he's right. I force myself up.

"If I don't come back, look after Ted."

"I always will." He tries to smile but just walks away.

If he is the last person I will ever speak to then I don't mind. I place the daisy in my hair and tuck my fringe behind my ear. I run and catch up with the others, not daring to look back in case I start crying or the smell of my sick makes me throw up again. The Capitol probably will see it tonight when they air all the Tributes for all the Districts. A bit of a juicy gossip even if I don't get picked because it will be a highlight of the day.

Slowly I begin to see The Hall. Inside is the reaping room, the waiting area and the multi-coloured array of ropes. Families and children are split by the Peacekeepers at the bottom of the steps. The families are guided round the back of the building whilst the girls and boys are 'signed in' at the top of the steps. This year Sector 12 has been selected for the place of reaping. Last year it was Sector 11 and next year Sector 13. This year it's 12's turn and our Hall could not be in worse condition. The steps are muddy and cracked; the walls are crumbling and dirty with vines growing up the building. Mr Tallagh-Patch and Mrs McClaven are guided with the families and I'm pushed with the shoal of children up the steps. The woman at one of the desks signals for me to come over by a weak gesture of her hand and obediently, I shakily walk over. I extend my hand. She pricks my finger and stamps the blood on the page next to my name. Vivron Matthews. Further down the list I spot Twila Mortenson. She's already inside.

"Next." Calls the woman blankly.

I step to the side and get ushered into The Hall. The waiting area is as tense as ever. The atmosphere in there is almost unbearable and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end like they always do when I'm in public. Girls and Boys sit in their groups, in their special coloured shirts. I see Sector 33 and 40. Familiar faces with no names.

The Capitol allows us to mingle so there are no barriers up around each Sector but why would you make friends with people you might have to kill? But inside. It's different. In here, ropes (plain in colour) section off each other. Small gaps form passages. I follow another girl in the brown and sit down on a wonky, creaky chair. Twila is sat silently behind me, staring at the floor. I stare at the big screen hanging at the front of the room. Underneath is the door to the reaping room. The door to hell.

The chairs fill up fast as the children from the others Sectors arrive. Though the capitol lets us mingle out there, we are not allowed to talk to people from other Districts. We don't know anything about their lives. Well only the basic things. I look up and see the families standing up in the old archways. Looking as terrified as always. 84 groups of boys and 83 groups of girls as well as us. I see a group of boys. Sector 108, I think, has two boys at the front. A huge hunk of meat is sat next to a twig of a boy. Questions enter my head. Which would I rather see go? If I wasn't in, the hunk of meat because he'd have a better chance of winning but if I was picked, the twig. He'd be easier to kill.

Despite my size, I'm quite strong. My little legs can run fast too. I'd have a good chance. Most people from this District are thin because of the malnourishment but there are the odd few that bully the rest to get more. As long as the celebrities are ok, no-one will notice us. Just the way I like it.

The doors close, blocking out any light, and the screen flickers to life. The voice of Conrad Sanford, the Games interviewer, booms out of the sound system:

"Welcome, one and all, to the 93rd Annual Hunger Games. I hope you are all comfortable and relaxed. You are in excellent hands here. Let's begin."

The seal of Prime Minister Snow is replaced by images of the revolution in Panem.

"The Mockingjay. A harmless creature? Or an instrument of death?"

The screen has images of burning buildings and people running for shelter. Then a still of Katniss Everdeen.

"Katniss Everdeen. A young girl, who had taken part in two Hunger Games, grew into the Mockingjay. She became dangerous to the Capitol. To life. That's why, she was destroyed. For five years now Panem has lived in peace from this Mockingjay, under the rule of the Capitol. Today 119 of you will be picked to honour your Sectors. Make sure you make them proud and may the odds be ever in your favour."

The seal returns and the crowd is absolutely silent. Not even a squeaking of a chair can be heard. We're all looking at the screen, not daring to look anywhere else. My heart beats faster and I feel tiny beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I wipe them away and take in a deep breath. _This is it_, I think. The doors to the reaping room swing open and June Sorbie, the escort for District 44, walks out. She's dressed even more ridiculously this year. Her hair swirls around her head and shoulders in its shiny purple colour and her eye's match. The makeup is dark blue and she wears a puffy navy blue dress with ridiculously high studded boots. The biggest fashion craze to hit the Capitol since bejewelled eyelashes. I don't really understand their concept of beauty but it doesn't really concern me.

"Welcome to this special day! I hope you feel lucky!" She smiled a little too much; it made me shift in my seat. "Let's start. Sector 1, please. Come on, quickly now."

She waddles back into the reaping room and I catch a glimpse of the round glass bowl full of names. Reluctantly a group of boys stands up and walks through the doors which close, immediately, behind them.

And so it begins.


	3. Chapter 3

**District 44**

**Chapter 3**

Sector 9, Sector 10. As soon as Sector 11 is called I start shaking. _It's us next, _I think. All other thoughts in me disappear and I'm left with one question. Will it be me? There's no way of telling. I hope it's not Twila. She'd never kill anyone, even if they tried to kill her. There's a hand on my shoulder and I instantly know its Twila trying to calm me down. It won't work.

The doors open and out walk the boys from 11 with looks of relief on their faces. They return to their seats and I hear a scream and crying. Then, June calls us.

"Sector 12, come on up!"

We stand and the blood rushes to my head blocking my ears so I don't hear anything but the rapid beat of my heart. We walk our way through the ropes, glances from other Sectors and then we're in there. In the room where lives are ruined. We stand in the roped area smallest at the front tallest at the back. I can't see any cameras but they'll be hidden. At the front of the room June is stood next to a large glass bowl which has my name in it, somewhere. Behind her stand Herbert and Steenie who look uncomfortable and bored. This room holds bad memories for them. They weren't reaped in this room exactly but the rooms look similar in each Hall. Herbert was from Sector 53 and Steenie from 96. In all of the 93 Hunger Games there hasn't been a winner from the poorest areas of District 44. Herbert and Steenie are lucky they're from 53 and 96. There are only a few that are special. Sector 12 usually dies at the Cornucopia. In District 44 we're used to death.

"Are we ready? Ok, let's see who the lucky young lady is." She dives her hand in the bowl without hesitation. She swirls her hand round for what feels like an eternity. Then she picks one. Shuffling to the front she opens the piece of paper.

"Vivron Matthews"

Immediately a pathway has cleared for me before it ad even sunk in.

"Come forward my dear. Don't be shy."

I mustn't react. I must keep normality. I must. I walk forward cautiously, and up the steps to the door where Steenie and Herbert stand. I look back and see Twila, Joumana and Dora. They're going to cry. So am I if I don't get out of here soon.

"Ladies, I hope you will wish your Tribute luck. I'm sure she'll do well." Echoes June.

Herbert smiles at me and opens the door for me. I walk down a corridor. They're still filming me. I know they are. I follow the corridor till I got to a large room brightly lit by old fashioned lights that are on the walls. Chairs were dotted around the room. Gold painted chairs with pale suede cushioned padding on them. They are very work out. You know, being 93.

I felt the hairs on my neck stand up again and realise that 11 other people are staring at me. And I realise these people might kill me or I might kill them. Hurriedly I walk to the far end of the room and sit carefully down in a chair in the corner. I feel alone again, like I'm back in the cellar. I pull my knees up to my chest like I used to but I don't talk because they might think I'm weird. But if they think I'm weird, would that be a bad thing? For one thing, they wouldn't want to be my Ally if they think I'm insane. They might think I'm a threat. Chances are they'll think I'm weak. And I don't want that.

I feel numb. I want to talk to Teddy. To tell him it'll be alright. But that would be a lie. Truth is, I don't know if it'll be alright. Probably won't be but I can't let that distract me. I have to win this Game. All the people in this room have to die. They have to. I need sponsors if I'm going to win. They won't sponsor me if they think I'm weak. What makes it worse is that you're only allowed three sponsors so I need good sponsors. People who will send things that I desperately need. Like medicine. I've seen in previous games an injection that they can send you if you're injected. If you inject it near the wound it will instantly heal up. But it's very rare. I've only ever seen it twice. In replays.

No, what I can aim for though it's water. I can survive on that. I hope. Five others have entered the room now. All looking afraid, pale and shaky, shaking when they sit, breathe, look. Not me though? No, me? I'm hunched in a ball in the corner of the room. Not a great start. I unravel and sit properly, up straight, on the chair with my head held high. I must look like I can do this. Joumana told me it's all in the appearance. If you look like you know what you're doing, then people will believe that you do. People in the Capitol are gullible. They believe anything they're told. Even the stupid Mockingjay being dead.

Even though she's not. She's alive and living in Panem. I intend to tell The Isle but I didn't know how. It would end with my death, I know that, but it would show her how selfish she is. How selfish they all are. Once they got freedom for themselves they just left the world to itself. Do they even know we're here? Probably not. They wouldn't know anything considering President Snow. He never told his people he had a brother let alone about the terrible things he does to his people.

And the people of Panem thought they had it tough. They were wrong.

The room slowly starts to fill up with different people accompanied by the same expression. It must be hours before the rooms almost full. Only a few chose to sit near me. I suppose the 'head held high' thing really works. But I don't look the most welcoming. I choose to wear an emotion of ownership. Like I know I'm going to win. I don't care if they think I'm selfish or snobby. I just want to win. Even if I have to become a 'career'. In the Districts, there are always people who are above the rest, who are 'career' like. Those Sectors in mine are 2, 17, 64, 43, 79 and 102. Yeah, there are a lot of them. But compared to the other Districts there's not that many.

I look around the room. Soon we'll be called to do the Tributes Walk. I don't think I'll be able to look at them, I don't want pity. I just want them to have faith in me. To show me hope. That I can do this. They won't through. They'll just stare at me with sorry expressions on their face. I can just imagine them; Twila with her big brown eyes, Joumana with her tiny nose and flawless skin, Dora who smiles at you even though deep down she knows it won't be ok, and Kip. Kip. The boy who picked the daisies with me, that day 8 years ago. We were in the fields to the back of Legacy Hall when we first met. I was alone, as usual, wondering through the long grass in search of flowers to put in the vase in my dorm. It was sunny that day, really bright, so I couldn't really see very well. I squinted to see if I could see any flowers. Then I heard them. The Jabberjays. They migrated from Panem and I had only just figured out what they did. So I sang to them. The lullaby that we learnt at school. We were taught many old folk songs but this song really stuck in my head.

The Sun Lowers In The Sky,

And Melts Away,

Behind Silky Soft Clouds,

That's Where It Can Be Found.

The Land Of Dreams,

The Land Of Sleep,

Where Moon Beams Shine Silently,

The Land Of Dreams,

The Land Of Sleep,

Where Everything's Done Perfectly.

"You liked that one?" He asked.

It startled me and I span to see him standing there in the sunlight. Being 2 years older than me, he was 9 and I was 7, he scared me. I'm tiny now; imagine how small I was then. I knew he lived in the same orphanage as Teddy and I, I knew he was on the same floor as Teddy but I didn't know him.

"Yes I do. Is that a problem?" I asked, protectively.

"No, not really. It's just that it's strange that you chose to sing that one." He replied.

The Jabberjays started to sing. All in harmony with beautiful mellow sounds.

"Although, it doesn't sound so bad when they sing it." he smiled cheekily.

"Are you saying that I can't sing?" I didn't know why but I was warming to him. The thought of being friends didn't scare me anymore.

"No, just that they sing it better." He said. "Here, I found these. I knew you were looking for them so I picked them for you."

He handed me the biggest bunch of daisies. I took them hesitantly. How was I to know what he might want in return? I eyed them suspiciously. He laughed at me.

"They're not poisonous. They're daisies." he said.

"I know what they are. I'm not stupid." I replied without hesitation.

"I know. I've seen you in Class. Not bad. For a girl." He grinned with those bright white teeth that seemed to be out of place in District 44.

In fact, he's always looked out of place. Here, the majority of the people have got thin skin which you can see the veins through with messy brown hair. Teddy and I stick out too. Teddy's ginger and I have burgundy hair. My eyes are dark brown with flecks of gold in them. Kip's are blue. A sea coloured blue that sparkle whenever he was told he'd done a good job at work. His muscly frame and light skin are always seen on the loading bay of The Centre. He has to be muscly. He works on the Loading Bay at The Centre. He plays the guitar beautifully but the guitar is a common instrumental talent and he wasn't given a job. He should have been. He deserves it as much as anyone. He told me it was because he was an orphan. He tells me everything. I know all his secrets. I'm going to miss him.

We talked a few weeks ago. I was given permission to visit him in the shack he shares with his workmate, Jimmy O'Reilly. Jimmy has always freaked me out. He likes to talk to himself too but he does it constantly and he argues with himself. Kip told me he chose to live with Jimmy because he reminded him of me. I didn't know whether that was a compliment.

Anyway, I walked down the street, into a back alley and through a dry patchy grass area. The usual route to Kips shack. I step up onto the broken blackened wood porch and knocked on the door. But there was no answer. I thought he was supposed to be in today. I looked down the dusty path and see the three other shacks, silent in the midday sun. The identical shacks all looked haunting in the silence and their windows were dark making it seem as though I was alone. I went around the back, climbing through the overgrown shrubbery, around scrap metal that the boys have never bothered to clear, and peered through the greasy, dusty windows. I could see figures moving around the shadowy living room. One of the figures spotted me and I quickly retreated back to the front of the shack and knocked on the door brutally with my fists.

"Kip! I know you're in there! Open up! Now!" As I shouted I become more agitated. Why was he ignoring me? There were three shadows in that room, I knew there were. Kip was in there, I would know his tall muscly figure from anywhere, and I think Jimmy was in there, on the sofa. But who was that other man? I'd been thumping the door so long that my hand was going pink.

Suddenly the door flung open and I punched a man, hard in the chest. I didn't hear him coming so it was a bit of a shock when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the dark house and out into the chilled, bleak space the boys call a living room. Kip pulled me from the snake like grip of the strange man.

"You don't touch her, you understand?" stated Kip. His hand linked with mine.

"We need to be quiet, so please shut it." the man said. "You, did anyone follow you?"

He stared at me with piercing green eyes which darted this way and that. He was dressed in a dark green suit with pale green pin stripes. His face was narrow and his chin pointed out. He had a grey goatee with grey hair to match. I guessed he didn't want to dye it like everyone else in the Capitol.

"Um…I don't think so… I didn't check." I stammered, barely audible.

The man's face went pale and he ran to the small 'bedroom' at the front of the shack. He squinted his eyes to see out of the window.

"Who is that man?" I asked Kip.

"Ronald Charm. He's the Head GameMaker for this year's Games." replied Jimmy.

Jimmy. I hadn't even noticed him sitting there, mumbling to himself. He was rocking slightly. Poor boy.

"He wants a test subject for this year's Games." Continued Kip.

"But its girls this year that are for Sector 12. Why is he here?" I asked.

"Jimmy owes him a favour. He wants Jimmy to find a girl to be a sure Tribute this year." replied Kip under his breath. "You shouldn't have come here."

I looked up at him and saw his eyes were scared. More scared then I'd ever seen them. I knew what he was thinking though. He knew that Ronald would ask me, a dispensable orphan, to automatically ensure that I would go to my death. And so he did.

"What's your name?" he asked as he scurried back into the room.

"Vivron Matthews." I replied, as quiet as a mouse.

"Ronald Charm. Well, Vivron. Do you know why I'm here?" he said with his raspy voice.

Immediately I replied "Yes, I do and I won't do it."

"You don't know everything. What the boy has told you probably won't be the whole truth. You see, I used to work in District 44's Centre as an editor for the highlights of each Games. The Capitol were impressed with what I'd been doing that 10 years ago they offered me a job as a GameMaker. Of course, I accepted and this year I am Head GameMaker." He motioned for us to sit down and still linked in hand, we nodded in agreement. "But, five years ago I got an email from a man named Beetee."

My stomach clenched up as he said his name. Beetee is a Victor of a previous Panem Hunger Games. He was too old to fight in their war so he designed the weapons they used. He designed the Mockingjay's bow and arrows that exploded and set fire to things.

"I never understood what he meant, until now. He wanted to further his independent research on the Games here. He needs a test subject. Someone to help with his research. So I emailed back stating that I would try to help him by finding him said test subject. So I came here in search of a girl to help him. So, I was wondering, seeing as you're here, would you do it?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Go to my death? Are you insane?" I said.

"If you do this then his research will be complete." He said calmly.

"And what is this research for?" Kip asked.

"If things go well, then he will inform the rest of Panem and they'll try to negotiate with Prime Minister Snow to change the way things are." He explained.

"So, there will be a chance that things could change." I was convinced that if I did this, Teddy wouldn't have to go in to those horror Games. I looked at Kip and stared deep into those blue eyes. They flickered and widened when he realised my incentive.

"No, no Vivron. You know better than this. He could find someone else to do it. I won't let you sacrifice your life like this." Said Kip, his voice more worried.

"You tell me you wouldn't do the same if you were in my position?" I persisted. "And I promise I won't do it." I knew I had him there. He has no family do he sees all his friends as precious. If he had a family I knew he would do exactly the same.

He stared at me intently, deciding what to say. So I say it for him.

"If you can guarantee me that I won't die, then I'll do it." I said.

"You mean cheat? I'm afraid I can't authorise that. The risk is too high. They'll notice if I rig it. The most I can do is send you things but I can't deliberately hijack the Victor. I would be found out." Replied Ronald.

"You could send me anything I wanted?" I asked, trying to understand the current situation.

"Yes. Anything you would need." He knew I was slowly being convinced.

"I suppose I could think about it." I said.

"I need an answer now." Persisted Ronald.

"I don't know. It's a big ask. I don't think I can." I mumbled.

"I'd do it." said Jimmy, still mumbling incoherently. "I mean, if I was in your position I would do it. I could have a chance at changing the way things are. I could stop the Games."

There's silence for a moment, then I said "I'll do it."

Ronald Charm's eyes lit up like diamonds as they scanned my face for any sign of regret. I didn't show any sign though. Kip squeezed my hand so tight that his knuckles went white.

"Thank you Vivron. I will help you as much as I can." Ronald smiled. Somehow it was warm but it freaked me out.

With that, he got up and walked out of the back door, checking to see if the coast was clear before he scuttled off into the long grass. We sat there in silence again, this time no-one looked at each other.

I pulled my hand from Kip's and walked to the doorway. I looked back and saw Kip had slumped down further in his seat. Turning back towards the door, I walked out into the stretch of dusty yellow road. I pushed my hands deep into my pockets, and strolled back through the field. I heard running footsteps behind me but I didn't look back. I knew it was Kip coming back to try and convince me to find some other way of doing this. But I won't. I was convinced I was doing the right thing, protecting Teddy.

The running got closer so I stopped and turned just as Kip got to me and we slammed into the ground. His face just inches away from mine he said "I'll do anything to protect you." He leaned in and kissed me. The initial shock faded away quickly and I started to kiss him back. He stroked the hair out of my face. I didn't know what to say, so I just stared into his eyes. Even, today I haven't replied. But I wouldn't know what to say.


	4. Chapter 4

**District 44 **

**Chapter 4**

June Sorbie waddled in and told us to form a line, in Sector order, and line up by the door. Now I stand sandwiched in between 11 and 13. Two boys who are skinny and frail. I can see the veins in Sector 11's neck. Ew.

They're a lot taller than me. Not that it matters. In these Games it's about being likeable. If you're likeable then people don't vote for you. Simple. Problem with that though. I'm not likeable. Far from it in fact. Twila says it's because I'm pessimistic. Maybe she's right but I don't need to be likeable. I've got Ronald on my side. I hope he's remembered. Otherwise I'm in deep trouble. No, he will have, it's important research.

In a few minutes they'll call out the Sectors 1 to 10 to go out onto the steps and see the crowd and cameras. Later on tonight it will be aired in The Capitol and we'll soon see who they like. The people who have a lot of money can send little gifts to the Tributes they like. Two days from now I will be standing in the arena for this year and District. I wonder what score I'll get. Hopefully over 8. I should be able to fight; I should have the upper hand. I'll be ok.

A small siren goes off in the room and everyone's back stiffens as they know what's going to happen to them. They know they'll die. June walks in again this time holding little sashes with our Sector Numbers on them. People in the Capitol don't know which Sector the colours represent because they're too lazy to learn them, or buy the Guide.

"I hope you're all ready. Don't look so scared. They won't bite" she laughs her little tinkly laugh. "Come on now put on your sashes and wait to be called. Stay in formation please."

She hands the bundle of sashes to the boys at the front. He takes off his sash and hands the rest back. There's static in the sir and then June's voice booms over the sound system.

"Sectors one to ten please, Sectors one to ten." She says.

The door automatically opens and Sectors one to ten walk out, looking lost and scared like puppies being taken away from their mothers at birth. I put on the white sash with the brown number on it. I took the daisy out of my hair and now I twirl it round my fingers.

"Sectors 11 to 20, Sectors 11 to 20, thank you." My heart started to beat fast but I made it slow down. I need to be calm. I follow the boy in front, cautiously, as we walk back through the corridor and out into the reaping room. The bowl had disappeared but 119's coloured ropes were still there. A twist of lime green and white. We're lead by the ropes out into the deserted waiting the room. They must be outside being comforted by overjoyed parents. We twist through the different sections and line up across the huge mahogany entrance doors. I hear the doors creak and immediately feel butterflies in my stomach. I'm going to be in the public eye again. I hate that.

As the doors, slowly, open the sun's rays pierce through the gap in the door. I can imagine the look on my little Teddy's face. Scared, nervous and sad, I imagine his tiny beady eyes welling up with tears and it takes all that I have not to start crying too. I never told him about Ronald. I'm hoping Kip will, after all, that's what we agreed. The doors pull all the way open and the crowd and I just stare at each other. We walk forward and I scan the crowd for Teddy. I'm met with sad faces all morning before we're dead. But I can't find him. Has he gone back to Legacy Hall? I can't find Twila, Dora or Joumana. Where are they? Where's Kip? I need to know they're ok.

There's a strip of road wide enough for all of us to walk through, with the crowd either side.

"…Tributes from Sectors 11 to 20" Herbert spoke into the marble microphone he'd been given.

We walk down the steps and out into the road. I can see Sectors 1 to 10 a bit further up, waving to the crowd and cameras. Some people in my line have already started to wave. Still no sign of Kip.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Tributes from Sectors twenty one to thirty." Booms Steenie's voice from the glass microphone she'd been given. It must be midday. I'm starving. Oh god. I'm supposed to look like I know what I'm doing but I'm strolling around staring at the floor with my hands in my pockets. Quickly I take my hands out of my pockets and I stare straight ahead.

I catch a glimpse of a pair of sparkly brown eyes. They lock my gaze for a moment. A look so warm yet worried.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Tributes from Sectors thirty one to forty." Echoes Herbert, boredly.

We follow Sectors one to ten down past my old home where tiny faces are pressed up against the window, and towards The Centre. People I pass on the street hand me flowers, freshly picked from the fields opposite them. After all, I am fighting for Sector 12 this year. Herbert and Steenie's voices get fainter and fainter as we get further away. I can see The Centre emerging in the distance, in all its terrifying glory.

When we get there we'll be assigned rooms and there we'll write our goodbye letter. Only one side of the page. It gets delivered before we start, to our close family. Mine will go to Teddy. I have no idea what to write to him. Thoughts of things to write cloud my brain and it's not until I'm walking through the shiny white doors of The Centre that I realise what I'm going to say.

We're directed by plain rope, again, into small, immaculately clean cubicles. The door slides silently shut and a bright white light illuminates the tiny space I'm stood in. A clear tray slide out of the wall. Imprinted on it is 'PLACE OBJECTS HERE'. I place the flowers on it and it slides back into the wall. A bright green laser hits my eyes and scans my body from my head to my feet. Suddenly it disappears. I don't even know where it came from. I don't see a machine in here. Oh great. Before I realise what's going to happen, a mist sprays down on me, coating me in a thin sticky layer of disinfectant. I make the mistake of breathing in and I inhale quite a bit of it. The foul smell fills my lungs and I choke making me swallow a bit more. The choking makes me feel sick and my eyes start to sting and water. Let me tell you, that spray was never meant for consumption so it tasted as good as it smelled. The spray cuts off, and still choking, I cautiously open my eyes. Tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away and I try to compose myself. The panel at the back opens up and I go through a tiny corridor with the same white, slippery floors, walls and ceilings as the rest of The Centre. It's so clean here and it smells so clinical. I reach the thick white door at the end of the corridor and push it open. My skin is no longer sticky, so I assume it must have soaked in. The door squeaked open and I enter a large airy room brightly lit by lights high on the ceiling. Orderly, in lines, there are women sitting at desks with a hole in the corner for depositing the syringes. I walk over to a desk in front of me. I sat facing to the side, not looking at the eyes of the woman who was boring holes into the side of my head. With her eyes, of course.

"Wrist" she barks.

I gingerly hold out my arm for her and she grabs it. The other Tributes are coming in and filing out of the door, not daring to look each other in the eye. I feel a twinge in my wrist and look to see the woman injecting a purple liquid. She notices the look of confusion on my face.

"It's a weaker version of the usual one. You're only here for a few days, you don't need it." she said, flatly.

I look away as she pulls out the syringe and secures a little piece of wool over it. I hear the syringe hit the others in the hole.

"Next" she orders.

I obediently get up; I walk out of the door and walk down several identical hallways, guided by the rough dull rope. I feel like cattle being herded by the farmer for slaughter. I find the door that's marked by a silver 12 on a screen and push it open as a few other Tributes walk past in silence, with tear stained face.

Inside, my room is a clean white and shiny like the rest of The Centre. But my bed covers and other things around the room are in my Sector brown. But I'm not focusing on my room. What's caught my eye is the desk. Not the desk it's self with its curves and grooves but what is on the desk. A sheet of lined paper, a smooth black pen and an empty brown envelope. This is it. My letter. I walk over to the paper, eyeing it. I sit down on the egg shaped desk chair and pick up the sleek black pen. I write my name, gender, Sector number (although I don't know why, the envelopes brown) and my house in the boxes provided. Of course I had to write Legacy Hall orphanage. After those things my mind is blank. What do you write in time like these? Only one thought keeps appearing in the back of my mind. I can't write it though. Or can I? No. No, I can't, it will reveal everything. But it may just seem like it is a desperate note to calm the people at home. So I scribble it down before anything else comes to mind. Then I'm staring at it. That's it, my letter. I close it and slip it into the brown envelope. I hope, so much, that they don't know. I'll be killed and so will Teddy. Why did I take this risk? What chance so I have against 118 other people? Not to forget Ronald and his family will be killed publically as a warning to others. I don't even know if he has a family. In fact, I don't know anything about him. He's risking so much for this, so maybe I did the right thing.

Sealing the envelope, I watch the paper fuse together until there is no visible joint. That's the best thing about The Capitol. When you think you know everything about them, they come up with something else that makes you stare in wonder. The clinical smell of The Centre has disappeared and is now replaced by a sweet, flowery smell. I'm unsure of where it's coming from though. There are no flowers in here, so I'm clueless. I reach up for the necklace Twila gave me and I freeze. It's gone. It's not here. I left it on the bed when the bell made us jump. Now I have no token from home. All they get from me is a sentence. And I have nothing from them. They won't let me get it from my home. Mrs McClaven has probably started packing for when I come home in a wooden box, dead. She's not exactly the supportive type. She's always been that way. Many people in Legacy Hall go to the Games so we are all used to people going and never returning to their beds. I sit back on the egg chair and watch the digital minutes tick by.

My stomach rumbles and breaks me from my daydream. I'm so hungry. I haven't eaten in ages and my muscles are becoming heavy with hunger. I wonder what time they decide to feed me. It's up to them I suppose.

So now it's dark. Tomorrow I begin training and I'll have to pay attention if I want to live. Ronald can only do so much. He can't help at the Cornucopia, so I'm on my own there. If I can make it out of the bloodbath alive then, I'll win. Hopefully. I haven't talked to Ronald in weeks.

They came by earlier and took my letter and gave me my meal. Then they came back and took it away. Soon they'll be back to give me my dinner. The silent ghosts, I've nicknamed them. They don't talk and they don't make eye contact with you. I don't know who they are or why they don't even look at me and only at the floor. Maybe it's the rules. No special treatment for the Tributes. If that's true then it's rude. I mean, they are already sending us to our deaths; the least they could do is show a little compassion. I'm standing by my window which looks out over the fence dividing Sector 12 and 13. My Sector looks so small from here. It's dusty streets and shabby shacks, a blur of brown and yellow. The window is slightly darkened so I can't really tell what it's like outside. I hope it doesn't rain. Kip's back at work and Teddy will be out in the fields sitting in his special place. Thinking of Teddy brings back the memory of my letter. He'll have got it by now, I should imagine. I don't know if he'll have shown Twila, Joumana or Dora. But Kip doesn't need to read it. He knows what's going to happen to me and we've agreed that if I do die then he'll look after Teddy for me. I trust him to do a good job.

A knock shakes me from my staring and I quietly walk over to the door and open it. To my surprise, June barged in and strode/waddled into the centre of the room. She is closely followed by two familiar faces that visited me earlier. The ghosts are back. They bring in two silver platters and two drinks of clear liquid. No, not water but something more delicious. I don't know where it comes from or how it's made but each one I've had tastes different. At lunch I had one that tasted of arrange and I had another one that was flavoured by something called pineapple. It was yet tangy. I've never tasted anything like it before. I really liked it.

They place the platters on the desk and silently slip out of the room. Dressed in plain white, not being able to talk or look at the people you're serving. Actually I've never seen them talk you anyone.

"Good evening Vivron!" beams June. "How are you? I hope you're settled in well."

"Yeah, I think so. I haven't been here that long though." I reply, wondering over to the desk. I sit down in the egg chair and spin round to face the blue woman stood in my room.

"I'm so glad you like it." she says, obviously ignoring the bored tone I had taken on to make it seem like I don't care. "I see you're still wearing your Sector T-Shirt. Have you not seen your other clothes?" She must've seen the confusion on my face because next she says "Oh you silly girl, you have no nose on you. Aren't you even a little but curious as to what's in those draws and cupboard? Of course you're not, you live at Legacy Hall. They teach you to keep your head down, don't they?"

"Yes, I suppose they do." I say, although lowering my gaze. I don't feel comfortable around her. I hate making eye contact with people and with her purple eyes she makes me uncomfortable and I shift in my seat.

"Well, we need to unteach you. After-all, if you want to live out there, they need to love you so you don't be a favourite to vote for. But I don't think you will be. You have such a pretty face…under all that mud." She says whilst studying my face.

"If the odds are truly in your favour then I look forward to working with you." She states before exiting my room.

I'm betting she said that to everyone else, it seemed really rehearsed. I turn back to face the platters and lift the warm lid off the bigger plate. Underneath is a meat, pork I think, drowned it gravy with a side of baby potatoes dipped in butter and covered in peas and carrots and other assorted vegetables that I haven't seen before. The smell filled the room and made my mouth water. But after a moment the smell made me gag and I slam the lid back down. The food here is too rich and I'm struggling to keep it down. My diet is mainly corn and rice with a few vegetables if we're lucky. Meat is a rare thing and when someone does acquire the meat it's usually just gristle and bone. Mr Tallagh-Patch used to buy meat off the illegal market and mix it with corn to make a stew like mixture. It was rough and hard to swallow but that's what I was brought up on and that's what I can eat. None of this Capitol rubbish.

Don't tell me I'm ungrateful because I'm not. I just prefer to think that people who don't care about me can sometimes be a little thick. I mean, they don't think we'll have problems with the excess and luxurious food because of my diet before. It's been 93 years and they are still too lazy to carefully look through the food. But I have to keep it down to keep up my strength. I need to be strong to stand a chance of winning.

I don't know why I'm helping Beetee; I mean I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the Mockingjay. Five years and she still doesn't even try and help us. She's just living her life without a care in the world whilst the world lives in fear, anger and sadness. If Beetee knows then surely she does too. I think I'm helping him because I want them to know and then they can come here and stop these horrible Games. They can help me save Teddy. Even if I survive these Games I refuse to work with her. I will never work well with her because I don't work well people. Especially people from the Capitol. That's why I'm alone all the time. People are annoying and that's how I've always seen life. It's just a long endless time where everyone moans about how boring or horrible or worthless their lives are. Ok, so maybe I'm a little bit pessimistic. But can you blame me? Being brought up here, on The Isle, means your life is a prison sentence. Because so many children are killed each year in the Games, it is law that you have to be married by 21 else you'll be married to a complete stranger the same age as you. Love is hard to find and sometimes you end up marrying someone you know just to be comfortable. No divorces even if you are miserable. Then each couple has to have a minimum of 2 children just to keep the population stable. If you're infertile then you're put to work in the orphanages where you'll be constantly reminded of your ruined life because you serve no purpose to The Capitol. People who can't have children are Useless to The Capitol.

They really enjoy watching children kill each other. When the Games come around each year they have celebrations and dinner parties to choose which Tribute they want to win or which one will be killed next. They make a Game of it. It's all fun to them. I don't think they really understand the reality of it.

I take a sip out of one of the tall winding glasses. Ugh, apple. I hate apple. To me, they taste too sour. I like sweet tasting things like the plum pie I had for lunch. It was coated in sugar and was served with two scoops of cream iced with icing sugar. So delicious but too rich. I could only stomach two mouthfuls. I've only tasted one sweet apple. It was when I was 7 and I had been living at Legacy Hall for 3 years and they had finally agreed to let me wonder around our tiny Sector by myself. All the other girls in my Class always talked about their trips to the corn fields. I pestered Mr Tallagh-Patch until he caved and eventually let me out. The Sector is quite small and in the centre is The Hall. There is a Hall in every Sector centre and the Sectors surround The Centre. Anyway, I was walking through the streets when I came across the Old Man who owns the grocery shop. I had seen him working when I went out with Mrs McClaven and the other girls. He owned it with his family but they were nowhere to be seen. He obviously recognised me because the next thing he did was smile at me. His frail skin looked translucent in the sun and his lips were thin and chipped.

Cautiously, I approached him. There aren't that many old people in District 44. If you live past 55 you're a specialty. This man was about 65. People wondered how he had managed to live that long. His wife had died at the age of 58, which was a miracle to live that long, leaving him in the hands of his children and theirs. People thought it was because he owned one of the grocery stalls so he was always able to obtain fresh fruit and vegetables for his family which must have kept them strong. They are able to eat healthily.

I stared at him from the other side of his cart, outside his shop, which was laden with apples, oranges and assorted berries. His face although bony, was full of love and happiness. I always liked old people. They make me happier because even though they're old and they know they don't have long to live they still make everyone else feel as though they're special and they have so much love it's contagious. All of Sector 12 was fond of this man. Even the Peacekeepers. The old man looked around the busy street and quickly and quietly reached cleanly out to a shiny red apple. He swiped it up and placed it in my hands.

"Hide it." he whispered.

I did as he said and hid the apple in my pocket. It was clear to see so I tried to hide it with my hand. He walked back around the other side of the cart and pretended like I wasn't even there. I caught his eye and smiled at him before running off to my field. I hid below the rapeseed in the fields and pulled out my apple. I wasn't too keen on apples, being that the only apples I had tasted were the tangy brown slices Mr Tallagh-Patch would give us as a snack. Two slices each, that's all we were allowed. So to have something that was my own to eat. That I didn't have to share with somebody else. I took the first bite and the sweetness of the juice hit me. I'd never tasted anything like it. I ate the succulent apple so I quickly I got an ache across my stomach. The next day I heard the Old Man had been executed for giving away vulnerable food. It was my fault. I still carry the guilt for him, on my shoulders. Every time I see, touch, taste even smell an apple, I remember him. The Old Man who I killed.

I place the glass back on the desk and swing the chair round to look out of the window. It's darker now and the stars are there but there's no moon. I'm hungry again. Why do these people eat so late? Maybe I'll have a small bit of that meat. I lift the lid again and find that the smell of the warm food doesn't make me sick anymore. I lift the swirly fork and pierce a piece of carrot. I lift it to my mouth, the graving dripping from it splashes back onto the plate. I take a tiny bite but it's too delicious to stop and I finish the plate in 20 minutes. I lean back with my skinny belly bulging. I immediately pull the lid off of the other platter. The smell of warm cherry pie fills the room. I like cherries. Their colour matches my hair and they taste nice. I find them growing in the woods. Kip and I used to pick them and share them with the other kids. They're like me really. Tough on the outside, gooey in the middle with a heart of stone. Well, that's what Mrs McClaven said anything.

I scoop down the pie as quickly as I can manage. The warm spices of the pie warm me inside to out. I climb out of the egg chair and roll into bed. I immediately sink into the spongy mattress. How can anyone sleep like this? I feel like I'm being swallowed by a marshmallow. A brown marshmallow. Then the heat kicks in and I melt into the covers. Everything in my body loosens and relaxes. My eyes feel heavy and they drop shut revealing a dreamless sleep.

The faces I wake up to are unfamiliar but dressed identically in white. More Silent Ghosts. Their staring at me whilst I was asleep scared me at first, which caused me to sit up abruptly and scare them. They cowered over by the window and it made me realise that they aren't rude to me, they are scared of me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." I say, climbing out of bed.

The boy nodded. At least I think it was the boy. All the Ghosts have the same identical outfits with the same short boyish haircut. The only way to tell the difference is by looking at the way they act. The boys are agitated and tense. The girls are softer but more timid.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

He nods again.

"Why can't you talk to me?" I ask again, getting more confused.

He stares at me again, his eyes shining with terror, anger and sadness. They flick from me to the door and back to me. I turn to look at the door but no-one is there. I turn back to face them but the boy has moved in closer and makes me jump again. He is staring at me again this time searching my eyes. He hands me a small emerald envelope. He puts one finger to his lips as a signal to be quiet. He turns to his accompaniment and they leave quietly leaving me in the morning sun alone. I slump back down on my bed and open the envelope. Inside are two studs which look like the Mockingjay pin. I don't have my ears pierced so I don't know how I'm going to wear them. Not that I want to. I open the white letter and read:

Vivron,

A little present from our friend. It's to be your token from home. He wants to know everything so wear them for everything. Remember what you're doing this for so keep focused. If you make it, we will speak further in the Capitol. Good luck.

Ronald Charm

Head GameMaker

BURN THIS LETTER. NOW.

The last words hit me and I look round the room for a fire or something. But, nothing. So, I cram the paper at the back of a draw. There has to be a fire somewhere in here and when I find it, the letter will go straight in there. It should be safe for now.

I change out of my clothes and into the training clothes. Black tight trousers, black boots and a black short sleeved top with our Sector numbers on the sleeves and back. Could my hair stand out anymore? I walk back into my room from my bathroom and on my desk, breakfast is served. When did they get in here? I don't remember hearing anything whilst I was in the bathroom. I sit down on the chair and reach for my necklace. I forgot it's not there. I've left it at Legacy Hall. I don't know why I am panicking. I wouldn't have been able to wear it anyway. It's safer with Twila.

I didn't think Ronald would have actually rigged the reaping. There was no confirmation from him so I didn't know if he was actually going to do it. Why did I even agree to it? Am I going mad? I've never fought people before. How did I think I could win a Game? But there's no going back now. I've made my choice and I have to stick to it. No matter how insane a choice it is.

I lift the platter lid and underneath is a large bowl of fruit and yoghurt with a biscuit thing on the plate next to it. Another glass of clear liquid sits as well. I lift the spoon and scoop up the creamy mess. The lumps of fruit don't look that appetising. I eat it anyway. Pear chunks in a vanilla yoghurt. Not that bad. Bit of a weird taste for me but I got used to it. The biscuit is crumbly so I mix it into the left over yoghurt. It's nice. Probably my favourite thing that I've eaten, yet. I've got training at 9:30. It now 9:18. Ok, 12 minutes to get there. Only problem is I don't know where it is. I'll find it. I just might take my time. I take a gulp of the clear liquid. Oh, it's just water. That's weird. I drink more and I finish it. I make my way down the corridors, trying to find the lift or a sign or something to tell me where I'm going. But there's nothing. These people really aren't helpful.

I turn another corner and finally find the lift. But there's two people stood next to it. A boy and a girl. 77 and 6. The girl looks about twelve and the boy about 17. Oh no, they're looking at me. Head held high. Intimidate them, make them realise who's in charge of you. So I walk over to the lift and press the button.

"I've already done that." Says the boy, his voice low and steady.

"I was just checking." I say.

"You didn't need to." He was staring at the floor.

We stand in awkward silence for a bit too long. After all, we could kill each other.

"What's your name?" asks the girl.

"Why do you want to know?" I ask her back, rather harsh sounding though.

"If you die people would know your name rather than just knowing you as Sector 12 Tribute." She replies, trying to smile.

I suppose she's right.

"Ok, but if you die before me then how will they know?" I ask.

"Because if we talk to you using your name, in situations like these perhaps, then the Capitol would know. They record anything, you know." She replies.

Wow, she really has thought this through. The lift pings and the doors open.

"Finally." Mumbles the boy.

The lift doors close and it hums but I don't feel it moving in any direction.

"My name's Vivron. Yours?" I ask.

"Shelby" she replies.

"Cash" he says.

I nod and we all stare at the doors. Another minute or so of awkward silence and the doors open and we walk out into a small dark grey room with darkened windows looking into the Training Centre, a large, spacious hall. Behind us three silver lifts, the middle of which we had just walked out of. Some other Tributes are filing out of them. All of us dressed identically with our Sector numbers on them. We all move through a glass door with 'Training Centre' printed on it in black capitols. Inside, the Training Centre is huge and dull. There are assortments of weapons on the walls, some I haven't seen before, and different sections of the Training Centre have been set up for different weapons training and skills. I look to my left as I enter the room and see the knot tying station then to my right I see the axe station. They look sharp. I reach into my pocket and pull out my earrings. I pin them on my top. I hope no-one notices them or recognises what they are. I'll be the first to go. Maybe there's a tiny camera in them. Ronald needs me to wear them. So I'll wear them.

I follow the other Tributes into a circle around a raised platform. On the platform are many GameMakers dressed in their iconic blue robes. They sit around the edges in their twisty chairs, talking to each other, eating food from the huge buffet cart in the centre of the platform. They don't seem to notice us or even acknowledge us. June hobbles from the buffet cart with deep purple and pink flowers in her hair, whilst wearing a pink and purple skirt suit with lilac shoes. Her eyes are darting around the room, at all the weapons. I don't think she feels comfortable in a room full of weapons surrounded by over a hundred soon to be murderers. Ok, I can see why. Herbert and Steenie are stood over by the buffet. A woman dressed all in black and grey. She stands at the edge of the platform, facing me.

"Welcome Tributes to District 44's 93rd annual Hunger Games. Here, you will be trained in the art of defence and attack. You have two sessions to master the techniques. One today, one tomorrow before you are evaluated. The rules are simple, no fighting with other Tributes before the Games, no stealing from other Tributes, no foul play. You break those rules and there will be serious consequences. Enjoy today, do good work ad use your time wisely." She smiles.

And with that everyone filed out to different stations leaving me stranded in a field of weapons, strangers and my ultimate death.


	5. Chapter 5

**District 44**

**Chapter 5**

I look around and see every station filled with Tributes. All the weapon stations are full, all the agility courses are full, and all the technical stations are full. And then I spot it. The tiny table in the dark corner of the room. Nobody's there. Good, something I can do on my own. I walk over there and a man wearing circular glasses stands up.

"Oh, thank god. I thought nobody was going to come over. They see the food and 'Healthy Diet' sign and they think it's boring. But I can assure you Tribute… err, 12, that t is not. It may just save your life." He says.

"You can call me Vivron." I say, which makes both of us calmer.

"And you can call me Lionel." He smiles. "Right, shall we get on with it?"

I nod and he shows me a large leather book. For the next hour or so, Lionel and I look over various herbs and berries that I might see in the arena. It was a little boring, because there were so many of them, but if I remember it all then I'll be able to eat. It's quieter too. Everyone is mumbling or grunting whilst using swords and axes. Some of the other Tributes are weak yet some are really strong. I haven't tested my physical or mental strength. Everyone keeps looking at me. I think it's the hair.

I decide to stop with the berries and plants and move onto something else. I say goodbye to Lionel and thank him for his help and walk around the room. I watch the GameMakers drink and laugh, not paying any attention to us. One knocks into another and before I know it they're fighting. They fall to the ground punching and kicking each other. They roll into a fancy, white plinth which is holding a remote. It falls to the floor and they roll over it, crushing it. I swear to you, the air around the platform rippled then disappeared. I didn't know what happened to the air but my confusion is sorted right away.

"The defence is down! The defence is down!" Shouts a Game-Maker in the microphone attached to his uniform.

The two GameMakers, still fighting, roll off of the platform and onto the mats below, right in front of me. I've seen and broken up many drunken fights. So I reach down and grab the one on top's shoulder. But he reacts badly and flails his arms around. I try to dodge them but one gets me and smacks me right on the nose. The unexpected hit sends me flying backwards. All the other Tributes are stopping now and staring at us. I reach up to my nose and a sharp pain runs through it. _He broke my nose, _I thought. I get up again, this time angry at them and I charge at them. I knock the one on top over and I secure his flying arms and legs. I sit on his back so he can't get up.

"Stop moving and it won't hurt so much." I shout at him.

"Get off of me!" he shouts back.

"That's right, girly can defeat you. You lost. You stupid." Slurs the other man. I notice his nose and lip are bleeding. "Nice one, Tribute one, two."

"Hey! Hey, listen to me. I am not 'helping' either of you, ok? I'm not on your side or his. None of you deserves my help. Get that into your thick skulls. You lot aren't supposed to fight. We are. The children of your Isle." I shout back, angrily. "And it's twelve!"

I climb off of the man and he exhales heavily as the pressure is taken away. All the Tributes are watching me, the GameMakers are watching me. No one looks scared, just shocked. I even think I see a little smile creep onto Herbert's face. I wipe the blood from my face. June waddles forward, looking like she's going to say something. She doesn't see the drink spilled on the floor and slips. I don't know why I did this. I don't like people from the Capitol and I don't care about June. It's probably just an instinct. June slips, falls off of the platform but before she can land on the floor my reflexes kick in and I run, hold out my arms and catch her. I realise what I've done and immediately drop her on the floor. She lets out a little squeal as she lands on the plastic blue mat.

Everyone is standing around with their mouths agape. Just what I need. More attention. I march over to the knives station and I start brandishing one. I turn my back to them but I can still feel their eyes on me. Slowly, I hear them resume their stations and duties. I feel a presence behind me and I turn to see Cash picking out a sword but snatching glances at me. I throw my knife at the practise dummy. I hit close to the centre. Not bad for a first try.

"How did you do it?" he says. He's right behind me. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck.

"What do you mean?" I ask, collecting my knife.

"How did you manage to catch her? You're so small, she would have crushed you. How did you do it?" he replies.

If I'm honest, I have no idea how I did it. But to show my control over everything, I say:

"I'm stronger than I look."

Maybe I am stronger than I look. I mean I used to climb trees all the time with Joumana. We have this special tree where we used to go when we were little and when we were sad. Now we're 15 we've stopped going to it. But I miss the large oak that was so familiar. If I could go there again, I would.

"Ok then, if you think you're strong then throw that." He points to a large weight next to the weight station; many of the bigger male Tributes are over there intimidating the younger and smaller ones.

"I can't." I say. The weight is big and I'm not sure I can lift it let alone throw it.

"The Tributes are looking at you as if you're a piece of dust that can be trampled on. They want to get rid of you. Show them you are a strong contender." He says.

"Why do you want to help me?" I ask him.

"After you catching June and splitting up that fight. I figured I'd rather have you as an ally than an enemy." He whispers.

I need to show them I am a threat, make them scared. So I nod in agreement and casually walk over to the weight station, my nose still throbbing. Some of the boys ignore me but most snatch little looks at me, wondering what I'm doing. I approach the weight and my heart beats fast. What if I can't do it? I place my hands around the handle and lift it. It's heavy but I can lift it. Now, where to throw it? I spot an abandoned practise dummy. Throw it now, whilst everyone is interested. I spin and let the weight fly out of my hands. It smashes into the dummy, splitting its head into tiny little shards. All the boys drunk from the flying splinters. They're all staring at me now.

I walk back to Cash. Other Tributes are muttering to each other.

"Happy?" I ask him.

"Yes, they look properly freaked out." He says.

He's got an accent. Not like anyone from here but he sounds like President Snow. He must have been imported from Panem. That's strange. Hardly ever, are people imported from Panem. They're imported from other places to keep up the population. But people from Panem are a speciality. I should have known. His appearance is a lot different from everyone else. Tall, sandy blonde hair with blue eyes. Very different from what you get in District 44.

"Are they still looking?" I ask, picking up a knife and fiddling with the handle.

"No, but the GameMakers are pretty shaken up." He says, throwing his knife. It hits the target in the centre.

"You're really good at that." I say.

"Thanks, I used to work in the forest back home. We used to do this for fun." He replies, collecting his knife.

"And where is home?" I ask. I'm being nosey but I don't care.

"I'm not allowed to say." He says, lowering his voice.

"Why not?"

"I'm not allowed, ok?" He's getting agitated. I can hear it in his voice.

"Fine. It doesn't matter anyway." I say. I throw my knife and it hits close to the centre again.

"Not a bad aim." He says. "But, you could improve. Here let me show you." He grabs my wrist and moves in close behind me. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.

"What are you doing?" I ask. It's a little startling.

"For the cameras." He whispers into my ear.

Why? Why would he do this to me? Every second he is there, the more cracks appear in my perfect reputation. He grips my wrist and slowly bends it, aiming straight at the target.

"You have to move it like this." He says with his voice silky soft. He places a knife in my hand. "Now, aim straight."

He throws my hand forward and it hits the target in the centre.

"Thanks." I awkwardly say. I struggle to get out of his grip and collect my knife.

Three bells ring loudly, alarming the younger Tributes.

"Lunch!" shouts the lady dressed in black and grey.

All the Tributes file out in awkward conversation. How can they even talk to each other? I can hardly look at Cash without thinking: 'Am I going to kill you or are you going to kill me?' We walk out of another glass door, this time with 'DINING HALL' printed on it. Inside, the room is long and warm. The walls are painted red. The colour of roses, the colour of blood. There is one long, shiny, mahogany table down the middle of the room where the Tributes are supposed to sit. Lining the walls are portraits of Prime Minister, President and April snow as well as other family members. I don't even know who half these people are. Around the edge of the room there are buffet carts piled high with dishes of random looking dishes. I opt for the dessert carts. There are warm cakes and cold jelly-like substances with sticky, chewy pink sauce in the middle. No cherry pie. There's a green crusted pie with a lumpy apple filling but the smell of it make me ill. So I opt for a red cake with deep red, thick icing. I cut myself a slice and place it on my silver tray. I grab myself a drink from the tray labelled 'Pineapple'. I carry my tray to the table and sit down. I lift my fork and cut myself a bit of cake when I feel eyes on the back of my neck.

"You just can't help yourself can you?" sneers a girl.

"What?" I ask, turning all the way round to face the large, monstrous girl with flaring nostrils.

"You heard me. Why can't you just butt out? Why do you have to be the centre of attention? You're nothing special." She snipes.

"Trust me, I don't want to be the centre of attention." I reply.

"Oh really? And I suppose what happened out there was a spur of the moment thing?" says a broad shouldered boy from behind the girl.

"Yes it was. Do I want some sort of special treatment? No. Did I want to cause a scene? No. Was it just a reflex? Yes. Can I help or change what has recently happened? No. So just shut your pie hole and leave me alone." I say with no intent of saying anything else.

I spin back and slice myself another piece of the cake. A silver knife slams into the table next to my hand, the metal attached to a hammy fist. I look up to the girl, red in the face, glaring at me. Everyone else in the room has stopped talking and are staring at us. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks and I get a sickly feeling at the bottom of my stomach. She leans down and I feel her breath on my ear.

"No one talks to me like that and gets away with it. You will pay for humiliating me. You won't win this Game. You never will." She hisses.

Leaving the knife in the table she stomps away with a group of similarly terrifying Tributes. I shake my head at her pathetic way of trying to scare me. What makes her think she can treat me this way? She's in no way special. I mean, she is pretty handy with an axe, but everyone has strength. But everyone also has a weakness.

"They're the careers." Says a light voice from next to me. I lift my head to see Shelby sitting down on my bench with a huge gap between us.

"Her name is Devyn and the other guy is Brent. I heard them talking earlier." Cash sits in between us with his drink. I see he can't eat anything either. Shelby, on the other hand, has mounds on her dish which look out of proportion with her tiny body twelve year old frame. "Devyn's the bully."

"Ok, so what am I supposed to do with this information? It's not like I can retaliate. There's like 6 of them and one of me. I'd be crushed." I croak.

"Yes, but there's also Peacekeepers all around here and the Avoxes." Informs Shelby.

"The what-what?" I ask; confused by what or who she meant.

"Avoxes" she pronounces. "They're criminals from the Capitol. Have you ever wondered why they don't talk? It's because they can't." she lowers her voice to a hoarse whisper. "Being an enemy of the Capitol means that if you do something wrong you'll end up like them. No tongues, imprisoned as slaves forever with no escape, no hope of affection."

She has lowered her gaze. Afterall, there can only be one victor of the Games. We suffer death whereas they have to live their full lives being constantly reminded of their burden on the capitol. A bit like Mrs McClaven.

"How can you eat that stuff?" Cash tries to distract us.

Shelby shrugs. "I suppose I have to. I don't want to collapse from hunger."

"I don't know how you do it. I can't keep the stuff down. That's why I just stick to this." Cash holds up the glass with his drink in it.

"What flavour is it?" I ask, changing the subject completely away from death or suffering.

"Pineapple. You?"

"The same." I say, confused to why we chose the same drink when there's such a variety. "Why'd you choose that flavour?"

"I had some for dinner last night and it's the best thing we've ever tasted. Why'd you choose it?"

"I don't know. I like it over all the others but I've only had a few of them." I trail off. His eyes twinkle t me as I blabber on. Why is he doing this? Why is he being friendly to me? I'm supposed to kill him but it's making it harder for me to do that. I eat my cake and shut up about the drink. I watch the gooey red icing in the centre of the cake drip out onto the plate. It's a bit sickly but for some reason I can't stop eating it.

"Here, let me." Says Cash. He leans over me and quickly pulls the knife out of the table. He places it next to his drink.

The atmosphere in here is unnerving. It's awkward, uncomfortable and really stuffy in this imprisoned room. Why do they do this to us? Lock us in like cattle ready for slaughter.

"I saw Devyn's face earlier when you were fighting those GameMakers." Says Shelby.

"Hey, I wasn't fighting them ok? I was breaking up their fight. I always have broken up drunken fights. Liquor always keeps Sector 12's minds at rest. Mainly because they don't know what's going on half the time. I don't really like it. It tastes too sour. I have to drink something sweet." I interrupt.

"Like Pineapple." Comments Cash.

"I suppose." I contribute.

"Anyway, I saw her face. She looked pretty shocked. I mean, I thought I saw a bit of fear. You have to worry about." Continues Shelby.

"I've been thinking about how I'm going to play this and I've come up with something. Ok, so for starters; no alliances because you'll end up having to kill each other and I don't think I could do that. Secondly, I'm going to use the '3 strike' rule." I say.

"What's the '3 Strike' rule?" asks Cash.

"I see you once that's one strike, I see you again that's two. And if I see you a third time, strike you're out. So I suggest that you stay away from me in there because, I'm sorry, but I'll do anything to survive." I reply. I get up and walk out of the dining hall as the bell goes. I walk through the Training Centre which is now dark and abandoned. I hear the other Tributes walk back out to go get changed. Photo-shoots next.

They are never fun. The Capitol thinks it's brilliant to dress the Tributes up in ridiculous Sector coloured outfits and then take pictures of them. Humiliating. They always look ridiculous in the Capitol clothes. Especially the younger ones. The GameMakers always use the photos once you die to show the Capitol a montage of all the Tributes that have died that day from each District. If you're from Sector 119 of District 44, you'll be last.

I get into a lift by myself and I press the button for the rooms. A few Tributes hover at the door but do not get in. Not with the face I'm pulling. My face is thunder. The doors close and I relax the muscles in my face. I hope so much that I don't have to kill them. I don't know if I could do it. But they have to go. I need to get back to Teddy.

The lift doors open and it's not my corridor. I get out anyway and search the corridors for any sign of my room. None. It seems like I'm searching for ages. Wow, the Capitol must love this. The stupid girl Tribute who can't find her room. I think I'm going the wrong way. The room numbers keep getting higher and I need them to go down. Where am I even going? Ok, I'm officially lost.

I turn down more and more corridors. I hit the 70's and realise I have to go somewhere else. But before I get the chance to turn around a pair of hands grab my shoulders and pull me into their room. They slam me against the closed door.

"Why do you have the Mockingjay on you?" hisses Cash in my ear.

"I don't know…" I stammer. The shock of being grabbed is just wearing off. I look around his golden and white room. Then back at him. He still has his hands on my shoulders but he's not wearing his top. I can see his muscles tense as he squeezes harder on my shoulders.

"She already got me in this trouble; I will not have her ruin your chances as well as mine. Take them off." He orders.

"I can't I'm not allowed." I mumble. He's so much bigger than me, it's scary.

"Why?" his face grows serious.

I look up at him. I can't tell him. They have cameras everywhere. Except my room. Ronald assured me absolute privacy. I could tell him there. But why should I? I only met him today. I can't tell him. It's my fault he's going to die. Instead, I push his arms off me and hug him tightly. He's startled by this sudden outburst of friendship.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

Before he can say anymore I run out of the room, leaving him confused.

"This isn't over Vivron!" I hear him shout, but not angrily.

I quickly walk round more and more corridors, becoming more and more frustrated, until; finally, I find my room. I push the door open exhausted and stare at the long brown dress and hair accessories on my bed.

"Oh god." I say, horrified that I have to wear this thing.

I pick it up. What the hell is it? How do I put it on? The toilet flushes and I immediately drop the dress into a pile on the bed.

"Oh, sorry about that. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I have such a tiny bladder. Oh, my dear. You have the most extraordinary hair colour. I love it!" beams a round woman, her hair, a golden colour, curls around her face. Her rosy cheeks dimple into a huge grin as she embraces me in a warm hug.

"You smell like a boy. Is that where you've been all this time?" she asks, holding me at arm's length.

"No, I got lost." I say, a little too quickly. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. How rude of me. My name is Bela, and I'll be your stylist this evening. Don't look at me like that. All the girls get one. But between you and me, I'm the overall stylist for District 44. I didn't design your dress though. I think I should have." She introduces herself and picks up the dress. "Now, let's get you into this and up to the studios."

She hands me the dress and I walk towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"To the bathroom?" I say, wondering why she wants to know.

"Oh, you don't need to be embarrassed. You can get changed out here." She smiles. "It's only me."

Awkwardly I smile at her. I peel off my training clothes and I notice her staring at my face.

"What?" I ask, uncomfortable at her gaze.

"We'll have to cover up that huge broken nose of yours. I'll fetch someone. You'll be alright doing the dress up by yourself?" she asks.

I nod and she shuffles out. I'm left alone and I quickly slip on the dress. Instantly, it swallows me up. It's huge and puffy with ruffles and bows on it. It's hideous. It's disgusting. It's embarrassing. Why do people in the Capitol find this fashionable? It's depressing. I slump on the bed, crumpling the brown blanket. Bela returns with a stern looking nurse and a look of complete horror flashes across her face. But she soon regains her calm and comforting look.

"I'm sure they won't mind if I tweak it a little. Afterall, in the second Hunger Games I am the official stylist for District 44." She reminds me. I'm beginning to get the feeling that she's excited about that fact. "Stand up."

And I do. The dress clings in all the wrong places and is baggy in the others.

"Let me see what I can do here…" she ponders. " Ah I know."

She opens the black case she brought and I see an array of threads, needle and scissors, ribbons, gems and make-up kits.

"Let's get started." She smiles and sets to work on my dress, hair and broken nose.

"I think I've got it." Bela mumbles to herself. She steps back and presses the panel in the wall. It clicks out of place and slides to the left. A long, shiny mirror moves forward and reveals the new and improved dress. Around my feet are masses of scrap material. I look up and see the dress has been cut down considerably. The top is tighter and brings in my waist. My feet are hidden under the long drape of the dress. Up the side are scrunchy flowers. She's taken the netting and made a few flowers out of that. The sleeves have been taken away and have been replaced by thin straps of ribbon.

"Yes. I think that'll do. Sorry it's not better. If I had more to work on, it would be better." She apologises.

"No, it's great. Thank you. At least I won't look bad. Umm… thanks for covering up the huge bruise." I say.

"Oh, Hun. That's nothing. You wouldn't look nice with lots of make-up so I tried to keep it natural." She smiles warmly and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "There."

I smile. She treats me nicer than anyone ever has. Maybe she doesn't know I'm an orphan. I bet she'd change her tune then. But I push the thought out of my mind. My mind turns to the photo session. I look at the clock. I'm late. Oh god. I'm late.

"Bela, do you know how to get to the Photo-Session?" I ask.

She smiles. "You can come with me." She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the door. "You're going to sit with me."

Trying to walk in heels for the first time is hard. But trying to walk quickly for the first time in them is really difficult. She pulls me down the white corridors and towards the lifts. I trip over my dress repeatedly. I'm trying to carry my dress and walk at the same time but I keep dropping it. We travel down into the corridors beneath and run through those too. She leads me through a door marked 'Studio Waiting Room'. She charges in with me, linking in her arm, startling the Tributes inside. Their dresses and suits are enough to make me cry out with laughter. I would have as well, except for the fact that everyone was staring at me.

I catch jealous eyes looking at me, wondering why I get the nicer dress. But I'm not there for long. Bela drags me through into the next room where Shelby is being photographed. She looks surprised to see me and loses concentration on the camera. Bela doesn't stop there and drags me again through another door. Inside are many stylists in their weird clothes. They all stare at me, some in confusion, some in curiosity, some in disgust, Bela just carries on and we sit down on two bright pink sofa chairs. It is incredibly comfortable. I don't really want to get up again. I feel awkward in this room. No Tribute has ever been in here or is ever supposed to be here.

The Stylists are talking among themselves. They ignore Bela and I but I don't think she minds. We sit in silence. I take the time to see what she's like. Bela is of medium height with swirly metallic silver tattoos up the side of her face. She is round and dressed in a pink shirt and green flowy trousers. Her hair is tied up in a fancy bun. She reminds me of a flower with her colours. Compared to the array of colours I see around the room, Bela is dressed more natural than anyone. My eyes are lined with brown eyeliner in swirls too with tiny little brown gems in the centre of the circles.

"Why am I in here?" I ask Bela.

"Because I don't want to be lonely and I'm certain that you want to have a conversation rather than sitting by yourself." Answers Bela. She leans into my ear and whispers. "I know about Beetee."

My heart starts pounding. If she knows and she tells someone, I could go to prison. No worse, I'll be publically executed or become one of those Avoxes.

Her face softens "Don't worry, I spoke to Ronald. I'm not going to tell. Ronald and I go way back." Her voice is so quiet can barely hear it.

My heart stops pounding and slows down to its normal pace. The muscles in my face and neck loosen. I relax and sit back in the spongy chair. Bela taps the sole of her shiny, sleek black shoes. On the side of the room is a large, dim window which we can see the studio through. I don't think they can see us though; at least Shelby doesn't seem to see us.

It's a long wait till Sector 12. I didn't know how long these things would take. Longer than I expected. Before long, I was summoned to stand on the red cross in the centre of the room and pose before the overly enthusiastic man with the big silver camera. He's weird. I mean, when someone takes your picture you're supposed to pose but with this man he runs around you shouting things like "That's it!", "More passion, more passion!" or "You look beautiful." It's especially weird when I'm staring at him in the most confused way possible. When I had my photo taken for the orphanage, we were in and out of that room before you could say 'Hunger Games'.

I want to shout at him before I leave but I can't. It would be rude. So, instead I stand there and stare right into the camera with a look that says 'I'm strong and I'm going to win."

"Marvellous." Breathes the man as he takes more photos.

He nods and I'm escorted out of the room and to the lifts. I get inside the chilled box and it goes up and shortly I arrive back at my corridor. I saunter slowly in my painful heels, down to my room and open the door. On my bed is a nice cream and coral dress. Wow, I actually get to wear something nice. I lift it up and see that the top half looks like a shirt with no sleeves and the bottom half looks like a tutu. It's beautiful. But not what it's for. I have to wear it to the Tributes dinner tonight. It's so awkward out there because you sit around in silence while you eat among the people who may or may not kill you.

Bela rushes in. I drop the dress.

"Oh, you like? Good I wanted something like that. It would suit you." She picks up the dress. "We have a long time till our due down there so let's get started."

I'm staring at my reflection. I look strange. My hair has been platted to the side with small swirls and curls down my face (Bela loves her swirls). The dress fits perfectly and she has put me into some flat red shoes that have black gems on the ends. She has placed larger black gems in my hair which wind down my plat. It doesn't look too bad. My nose is now a brilliant blue. It looks so bad, mainly because Bela can't cover it up. Oh well, it doesn't matter.

I wish Dora were here. She could cheer me up with her drawings. They're always beautiful. They can cheer anyone up. I wish kip were here. He'd protect me form them. He'd tell me it would be ok even though we knew it wouldn't. I miss him. I miss Teddy. Just being here reminds me that he must be so lonely. I can't die. I can't leave him alone. Not like our parents did. Just thinking about Teddy makes me remember the letter. I can't believe I wrote that. It's so promising. What if I can't fulfil that promise? There's no way I could apologise for it.

The door opens. It's Cash. What's he doing here? He's wearing a black suit with gold detailing. He looks good.

"Cash? What are you doing here?" I ask.

"You look amazing." He says, shutting the door. "Apart from the massive nose."

I turn back to the mirror and stare at my nose. It doesn't see that big to me. "It's not that big."

He walks towards me. "Yes it is. But you look good. It sort of makes everyone think before they go near you."

I turn back around and sit on my neatly pressed bed. Cash joins me. It's weird but he's got the bluest eyes. They're encapsulating. They could hypnotise anyone. He notices me staring at them. He smiles.

"We only have one day left. I might not make it out. You might not either." He takes my hand. "I like you Vivron and so I need you to understand this. I don't want to kill you, so when we get into the arena I want you to stay as far away from me as possible. Can you do that?"

I stare at him. Where has this come from? Why now? Why here? "Yeah, sure. But what if we're the last ones?"

"I don't know." He drops my hand and looks down at the floor, defeated.

His look depresses me. Does her care about me? I think I care about him. I don't want him to die. If I die, I want him to win. More than anything. Actually a lot. It surprises me.

"You look beautiful." He mutters.

I smile. The compliment makes me blush. No one has ever taken interest in me before. They would always tell me what to do or what not to do. Kip never told me how beautiful I was.

I kiss him.

I don't know why or what for, but I might die in two days. Our lips meet and at first it's awkward but soon we don't fumble and I place my hands on his strong chest as his hands run up my waist and neck. This is good, isn't it? Or have I don't the worst thing imaginable? I remember mine and Kips' kiss and remember its awkwardness. It wasn't like this.

There's a knock at the door and we immediately pull apart. I stand up and answer the door. It's Bela.

"Oh wow! Don't you look amazing?" she exclaims. I let her in and Cash stands up, abruptly wiping my lipstick from his mouth.

"Well, I should be going…" he stammers.

"No need. You can go down together." She obviously didn't notice the mouth wiping. "It's good to have a friend."

So we exit and make our way to the lift, where Bela bids me goodnight. I stroke the Mockingjay earrings that I have hidden with my plat. Ronald told me to wear them so I presume he means through everything. Cash bends down and kisses me on the cheek. It's a small gesture but I know that it means a lot. Do I feel guilty? I don't think so. It's not like Kip loves me. He just didn't want to lose his friend. It was in desperation. But, then again, maybe this seems alright because we're desperate to be loved before we die. I don't know, it's all very confusing.

The lift hums in its familiar way and makes its upbeat ping as we exit into a long hallway. At the end of the hall are some double doors made of mahogany. We push through them and there are large round tables all over the room. Many Tributes are already there and I hear more arrive behind us. We enter and see Shelby sitting alone. I point. Cash nods and we sit down next to her. I catch Devyn glaring at me. It's my huge nose, isn't it?

"Don't pay any attention to her. She's in a mood because she was caught sneaking into another Tributes' room and everyone keeps teasing her about it." says Shelby, still looking at her empty plate.

"Really?" I don't quite believe it. Devyn in embarrassment? It's so surreal. It feels good after she threatened to kill me. Serves her right.

"I only overheard some others gossiping but I think it's true."

I look back at Devyn; she's playing with a long silver knife. I feel a bit sorry for her actually. I mean, she could die and everyone will remember her for this.

But then Cash finds my hand under the table and squeezes it which pulls my view away from Devyn and down at my empty plate. My cheeks flood with blood. He notices me blushing and grins.

"What are you smiling at?" asks Shelby. She looks so tiny in her purple, frilly dress. She's barely 13 years old and they're making her fight to the death. Just looking at her makes me despise Prime Minister Snow even more. She peers over the table. "Oh" she nods after seeing our clasped hands. "I see."

"You can't tell anyone." I plea. Cash frowns at me as if to say 'Why not?'

"Sure. I won't."

A jingly bell rings and we all look up to see June, Herbert and Steenie walk in, in all their finery. June's looking as ridiculous as ever in a gold dress and matching shoes. All her jewellery is purple to match her hair and eyes. Herbert is wearing a navy blue suit with blue sequins in the shapes of waves up the sleeves and body. Steenie is wearing a tight red dress that flares out at the bottom. She looks like a fish.

They flounce in and take their seats at the head of the room. June stands up, startling one of the guards who are trying to tuck in her chair.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." She announces. "You all look fabulous, don't you? Well I hope you enjoy tonight's dinner. It's going to be amazing!"

I look around the room and see the miserable looks on everyone's face. It makes me want to laugh.

Another bell rings and an assortment of waiters and waitresses enter carrying small and large platters of food. A strong smell of food lingers in the air. My mouth waters. I'm so hungry. They place the platters on our table and reveal the wonders underneath. I mismatch of colours and smells are unveiled and you see every one of the Tributes faces leer forward in eagerness. Most of these Children have had hardly enough to eat all of their lives. The look of lust for the food is enough to make anyone feel depressed.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Asks Steenie as she cuts herself a piece of meat.

The Tributes take this as a 'Go' sign and they race to swallow their food. I sit there, staring at my empty plate. I don't feel like eating. Not now. Cash places a slice of a meat on my plate.

He leans in and whispers "You need to keep your strength up."

And I realise he's right. If I want to win this thing then I need to be strong. Physically and emotionally. I need to ignore the questions circling my head. There are no rights or wrongs here. This is a game. And I am determined to win.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The axe is heavy, overbalanced. It's tricky to throw. So I decide to go onto something else. Ooo a spear. That looks good. I pick it up and catch Cash staring at me. I smile but he just looks away. Rude. It pains me seeing as we only kissed yesterday. I shake it off though and face the dummy at the other end of the firing road. It's a long way away. I squeeze my eyes tight and squint at the tiny target. I tighten my grip on the spear and aim it at the target. With all my strength I throw it and it hits the target in the centre.

I look around the room to see if anyone saw that. They didn't. They're concentrated on whatever obstacle or weapon they have, looking determined to be the best. I suppose I need to practise. We have our evaluation this afternoon. I need to get a good score. I need to show them I am not worth voting for. I need to show them I am strong.

A twinkly bell sounds and the woman who addressed us before stands atop the platform.

"Tributes. I would like to remind you all that you have only one hour left. Use it wisely. Now, once you have finished your evaluation, please make your way back to your rooms and remain there until tomorrow morning when you'll be fetched by your stylists. Thank you."

She steps back and the general murmur resumes. I'm concentrating hard now. I need to think about what I might need in the arena. It could be anything. I couldn't count how much I need to remember whilst I'm in there. Not only killing people but trying to survive, myself. I miss home. Technically, I am home but I miss my bed. I miss the comforting eyes of Mr Tallagh-Patch. I miss the gentle sound of the stream at the back of the Orphanage. I even miss Mrs McClaven.

We are sitting in rows on metal benches. They're freezing to touch. And uncomfortable to sit upon. It's my turn next for evaluation. Shelby must be in her room. I wonder if it went well for her. A buzzer sounds and a red light flashes above the rounded metal door. I walk through not gazing back at Cash or Devyn. I walk back into the Training Centre where the Game Makers are talking and drinking, again. They pay no attention to the small young girl timidly walking into the room. Now that there aren't any children in here, the room is large and looming. It's really intimidating. There's so much to do. I haven't really done the agility courses so I think I'll steer clear of them. Instead I go over to the spear station and pick up the largest one. I hear the Game Makers mumble behind me. They're talking about me; I know they are. I can sense it, you know? I turn to face the target and lift the spear above my shoulders. I throw it and it pierces the head of the dummy.

"Vivron Matthews." Beckons Herbert. It startles me as I didn't think that I'd even be acknowledged through this. I spin round to face them. Some of the Game Makers are looking at me, some are sneaking glances and some are ignoring me altogether. Herbert is stood at the front of the round platform holding a silver clipboard. He waves me over and when I reach him he bends down to talk to me.

"I want you to show them your strength. I saw you yesterday with June and those men. You have hidden talents and now is your time to use them." He croaks. He looks to his left and stares at the long and high assault course. "I did that when I was here. You should do it."

I nod. I know I should but I've never done it before. I might be rubbish. But I'll give it a go. I wander carefully over there; dodging the poking up corner of the mat. I can still feel Herbert's gaze on me. I'm getting self-conscious again. I can't do this. I'm going to make a fool out of myself and I can't afford to do that here. I glance back at he gives me a reassuring look. He thinks I can do this. Is he totally insane?

I get to the foot of the ladder and a lump forms in the middle of my throat making it near impossible to swallow. I try clearing it but it seems as though it's here to stay. I shake all other thoughts from my mind and focus on the task ahead. I clasp the ladder rungs and it swings viciously. I secure my feet on the bottom rungs and start, slowly, climbing. I found something I didn't know about myself.

I'm afraid of heights.

Now I know what you're thinking: Vivron, if you don't like heights, then how did you climb the oak with Twila, Joumana and Dora? Well, to be honest, the tree may be large but it is not tall. And this ladder seems to be going up into the looming ceiling. I climb onto the thin platform and steady myself for the beam across. This doesn't seem so bad. And then I look down. My eyes widen in fear, my heart beats twice its normal pace and my hands start to feel clammy. I stare at the thick yet slim beam in front of me. I look down at Herbert; he winks. I'm about to run across when I spot soft patches in the beam. I look down again and see the Game Makers staring at me waiting; June tapping her foot impatiently. No time to waste Vivron. Let's go.

I spring across the beam, flipping to avoid the cushioned darts. I reach the end; realise that what I've done was very dangerous and swing across the ropes and reach the large rope net. I climb halfway down and lean over to the metal bars. I hang there, not daring to look down; I swing myself up through these bars and hook my legs round so I hang upside down. Ooo, I feel rough like this. Quickly I swing up right and stand on top of the slippery bars. I hop delicately from one bar to the next. It's alright. I swing on another long rope and jump off onto the floor. Herbert gives me his nod of approval and just as I'm about to leave a man much bigger and taller than me enters; I take a step back in awe. He's wearing all black with padded armour over his chest and legs he carries a black padded helmet and what seem to be two long, plain sticks.

"This is Rala. He will fight you." Informs Steenie coolly.

"But I thought I was done." I say, keeping an eye on Rala.

"You are done when we tell you, you're done." Snaps June. She still looks shaken up from her fall. I bet she dislikes being touched by someone from the Districts.

"Here." Grunts Rala. He hands me one of his sticks. He looms forward sending me backwards onto the blue training mat; I almost fall.

Rala twirls his stick through his fingers and lunges at me to try and scare me. However, it's delicate for someone of his size. It kind of reminds me of baton twirling. I used to do it with sticks because I didn't have the money to buy a proper baton. I was going to do it as my talent for the people here; when you're 16 you get to audition for a place in their talented and gifted academy. I twirl my stick high in the air. I raise my eyebrow at him; his face a shock at my talent. I smile. He wasn't expecting that. We circle each other, waiting for the first attack. Rala lunges forward, I block him. For the next few moments, Rala and I are locked in a battle, in a frenzy of twirling, spinning and clicking of wood. I knock his feet from under him and he slams onto the floor. He takes one last swing at my legs. I jump in the air and land, holding my stick inches away from his nose.

"Thank you Vivron." Says Herbert, a sneaky smile spreads across his face.

I drop the stick on the floor and exit as quickly as possible. How long was I in there? I go to my room and slump on my squishy bed. Now all I have to do is wait till they announce the results. I hope I don't get a 2. That would be embarrassing.

Bela has joined me in my room. She sits at my desk, eating my tea. I didn't want it and she obliged to have it. In a few moments, Conrad Sanford will announce our results. I have butterflies in my belly. Why do the other Tributes have to know? They can tell who to pick off first, who's the most threatening.

"Right. I'm stuffed." Sighs Bela. She places the fork on the plate and pushes it away from her. She sits on the bed. I stay where I am, staring out the window at my Sector in the distance. Kip will be there, watching. And Teddy. And Twila. And Mr Tallagh-Patch. But not that Old Man. No, he'll be watching from wherever you go when you die and he'll be smirking; thinking 'Ha, she's got her comeuppance.' And I have, haven't I? I mean, I might die, I might not. The thought makes me sick with fear. I feel as though everyone around me dies. Maybe I should be locked in a room so no one can come near me, and then people would be safer. The TV screen above my desk flickers into life.

"Ooo, it's started!" Bela says, with an excited grin across her face.

"Good evening ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome back to the Results show. I hope you've been sitting comfortably. We're almost finished. It's time for our last District. District 44! Now, because there are 119 of them their scores will be presented the same as the other Tributes'. I will read them out for all you District people out there."

Bela giggles, forgetting there's a District person in the room. Is that what they think of us?

"First up Sectors 1 to 10." Announces Conrad, his pearly white teeth sparkling under the studio lights.

On the screen there are 5 sections on each side and there are everyone's photos from earlier. Some are smiling, some are not. There are their full names that no one is going to remember and their scores I turn back to look out the window. Conrad continues to read out the scores. I hear Shelby – 6. That's good. I think. Sector 2 girl got a 9 but I'm not surprised. She is a 'career' Afterall. Her name is Bergwind.

I hear Bela gasp. I know instantly what she's looking at. My score.

"My, my, look at this. Size means nothing to this girl. Sector 12, Vivron Matthews with a score of…12." Says Conrad, almost shocked.

I spin around instantly to face the screen and there, as clear as day, is the number 12. I can't believe it. 12? 12?! I feel like crying, laughing and screaming all at once. Instead, Bela stands up and grasps me in her tight hug.

"Oh, well done Honey. I knew you could do it." she smiles at me with that growling familiar smile.

I don't hear what she says from then on because a thought hits me. Tomorrow, I'll be fighting to the death. Tomorrow. I'm not ready. I can't do it. Panic sets in and my breathing becomes rapid. My legs go from under me and I fall to the floor. My vision pinpricks until I see nothing. Just darkness.

I'm in my cellar. I'm no longer 4 years old. I'm myself in my pyjamas. I stand up and wonder over to the small bench in the dark place of the room. The gloomy light bulb swings overhead. I can see the dust particles in the air. Then I hear a clink, like a door unlocking. Devyn bursts in and starts stabbing me with her sword. Then Brent comes in with his bow and arrows. He aims at my head and fires.

I wake with a start. My room is dark; the curtains are closed. My face is dashed in sweat. I go to the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, for perhaps the last time. Why did I volunteer for my death? What if Beetee does nothing and I die for nothing? Kip was right, I should have kept quiet. I stroke the earrings on my bedside cabinet. Pointless things. I don't have my ears pierced.

My eyes well up with tears; they drop onto my lap and dark patched form on my pyjama bottoms. This is it. My last night and I can't sleep, I have nightmares and I have an overbearing sense of death. The pain in my chest ache's more than ever. I peer through the curtains out into the dark Sectors. The sky is clear and I see the sparkling stars far away from me. That's where I want to be. Far away from here.

Maybe soon I will.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I lay awake all night waiting for morning to come. I don't know if you've ever tried to do things in the dark, but it's incredibly difficult. Bela has joined me and stares at the floor. I pull my top on. My breakfast has gone cold and stale. I have no appetite. I know I should eat as much as I can; I might not eat for a while. I stand and stare out the window again. The sectors are deadly quiet. They usually are at this time. They're in mourning; which is a bit rude considering we're not actually dead yet.

Bela attaches the earrings to my jacket and carefully lays it on the bed.

"It's time to go." Says Bela, her voice is a hoarse whisper.

I nod. No use trying to deny the truth. I walk out the room; Bela follows carrying my jacket. Before we enter the lift, Bela grabs my wrist and says:

"Don't hesitate. Whatever you do, don't hesitate."

I nod but her eyes are deep with worry. It makes me more nervous to think about it. She means when I go to kill someone. Hesitation kills. We climb into the lift and it goes down a long way. It opens onto a large dingy hall with a similarly large, shiny silver train in the centre. Other Tributes are getting on, not daring to look at each other. The train looks odd inside the hall. There's stingy light coming through the grimy light bulbs and it highlights the dirt strewn across the walls and floor. No sign of Cash. Bela and I walk to the train and climb aboard. We walk to the seats with 12 on them. I pass Shelby but she just stares at the clean floor. I sit by the window and Bela squeezes in next to me. After everyone had climbed on, the train pulls away fast and silently. Lights in the tunnel zoom past like flashing from a camera. Soon a lady comes past and asks me for my arm. I stretch it out and she grabs my wrist, viciously, impatiently. She presses a device to my arm and it shoots something into it. She yanks it away leaving a small circular hole. I trace the small, glowing lump as we speed underground.

When we arrive in the dark and damp station, there are doors marked with numbers. There are four on each. I walk with Bela to the 9, 10, 11, 12 room and walk inside. The bright light blinds me as we walk in. Its clinical smelling in here too. Inside there are four, what look like, curvy coffins. This is sick. We're not even dead yet they're measuring us for our death. To be honest, I didn't even know they even cared that much.

"You have to answer your questions now." Whispers Bela.

So, I climb in and Bela closes the lid. In the darkness I hear nothing. Now I know what being a dead body is like. Pretty boring actually. I'm not scared of death. I mean, of course I don't want to die but if I do go, then I go. Suddenly, the casket flashes into life. The white light burns eyes. I realise this thing is deeper than I thought. The top is a good distance away from my face; I don't feel squished. In front of me a small screen flickers into life. On it, the symbol of the Isle.

"Hello, Vivron Matthews. Happy Hunger Games. Let's start by asking you a few questions." Says a computerized voice. "Have you any messages for family and friends."

"Err… I don't think so. Everything I wanted to say was in my letter."

"Thank you." She says. I'm confused for a few moments, then I realise that must be an automatic response. "Everyone loves the fantastic array of weapons they have there. What will be your weapon of choice?"

I have no idea. "Erm, probably a spear or mace or something." To be honest, talking about which weapon I'm going to kill with is a little unnerving.

"Thank you. Please could you describe to the viewers at home. What it's like in here."

Does she mean in the box? Or in the Games? I go for the last option. "I don't think anyone can truly understand what it feels like here. Unless, they, themselves, were in my position."

"Thank you. Please, have a nice day and may the odds be ever, in your favour."

The door to my 'coffin' opens and I'm upright. I didn't feel it move. How did I get there? Bela and the other Stylists sit in a row. They all look relaxed. Well everyone except Bela who looks slightly on edge. I climb out. My hair is in two small buns by the side of my head. She stands to great me. I walk towards her. The bolted door to our left unlocks with a loud click and swings, mechanically, open. Inside it's dark. We walk through the door with the other Tributes and inside there's 119 glass tubes with our numbers above. It's a large, round room with chairs, for the Stylists, around the edge. It's lit by dull small, yellow lights attached to the walls.

"60 seconds." Says the same female computerised voice.

Bela and I walk to my tube. She helps me with my jacket. I look around a see the sea of sacred faces. I catch Shelby's eye. She stares at me and breaks as she climbs into her tube.

Suddenly I hear a tapping noise above all the clamour. I turn trying to find the source. Then I see it. Well, her. She's there, tapping on her tube. Devyn. A sly smile is plastered across her face. Then, with her finger she traces a line across her throat, menacingly.

"40 seconds." Says the voice.

I break eye contact with Devyn and hug Bela tightly.

"30 seconds."

All the remaining Tributes, silently, climb into their tubes. Bela takes her seat.

"20 seconds."

The door to my tube swiftly closes. My tube goes silent and I can only hear my raged breath. Then the mechanisms whir. The metal plate under my feet rises and I take one last look at the golden haired Stylist. She puts her hand over her heart and pats it. My tube goes pitch black and then the air above my head lights up and I smell the smell of sweet berries which reminds me of the cherry pie I had for dinner. It's probably the only dinner I'll have for a long time. Or maybe forever.

My eyes take a while to focus.

"10 seconds."

My eyes finally focus in the bright sun. I look up and see huge Capitol buildings overgrown with vines and other assorted vegetation. I look forward but I see nothing. There's a dense Forrest but no Cornucopia. No horn shape in the distance. I hear a cough behind me and turn to see a large, metal layered cake. It's not a real cake but it's scattered with Tributes. I turn to look at Sector 13; he looks at me. He knows the truth too. It's round the other side.

Then I see his eyes flitter to the ground. Before I can stop him or say something, I watch his feet leave the podium and my eyesight is blinded by an orange glow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The explosion deafens me. I cannot hear the screams but I can see them through my blurry eyesight. I realise that I am slumped up against the cold metal frame of the 'cake'. My eyesight slowly returns and I see people running away into the forest. I get up, a pain searing through my head. I reach up and touch the warm blood trickling down the side of my face. I gather my balance and stumble around the outside and there I see horror.

Children are slashing each other. I see their blood pour over the ground. I want to look away but I can't. I'm hooked like a fish. The Cornucopia looks huge from where I'm standing; my head still pounds. And then I realise I'm standing in plain view. I need to run; I need to get out of here.

Someone grabs my neck and pulls me backwards. I try to scream but I can't. They are suffocating me, strangling me. I struggle in their arms but I'm fighting a losing battle. Then I feel their grip loosen and something warm drop down my neck. They drop to the floor with a long spear sticking out their back.

Cash stands there staring at me with a sword in his hands and a bag in his other. He throws the bag at me and before I have time to ask him why, he has sprinted off into the woods.

I, hurriedly, pick up the bag and shove it on. Without thinking, I yank the spear from inside of him and I hear the squelch of his organs. Disgusting. I take the small knives from his belt and loop them into mine and I carefully place one in my boot. A hidden weapon.

I'm about to run into the forest when I see a small blonde girl run around the corner. I know she's a career instantly by the fact that she's covered in blood. She spots the boy on the floor and me with my blood soaked spear. She smiles an evil smile at me and sprints right at me, swinging her mace in the air. I jump off the 'Cake' and run straight towards one of the buildings. I kick open the doors and run up the carpeted stairs. I hear her run in behind me but I don't dare to look back. I run all the way up, not stopping once.

I get to the roof and kick it open. My heart pounds in my chest. I need to get away from her. I need to lose her. I don't want to kill her and I certainly don't want her to kill me. I look around to see if there's anywhere I can hide but there isn't. Blood is pouring down my face now. I feel like I'm going to black out if I don't find some place to sit down.

"There's nowhere to run 12." Sneers the Bulky girl behind me.

I turn and she starts at me, lunging at me; she grips her mace tightly. I want to run but there's nowhere to go. And then defeat sinks in and the tears start rolling down my face. The girl laughs at them as she walks towards me. I back up against the edge of the roof and I see the bloodbath below. Her laughing echoes in my ears as I stare at the dead. It angers me. She can laugh after killing those children and she thinks she's going to kill me too. Well, she has got this situation very wrong.

I hold my spear up to her. "If you come any closer… I'll have to kill you."

"Really? I'd like to see you try." She smirks. "You may have a 12 but I know you'd never use it."

I wipe away the fallen tears with my empty hand. I try to stifle my sobs and steady my hand but I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

She jumps at me and I narrowly dodge the spiky ball. I duck and run behind her; I kick her in the back. She lands against the wall with a thump. She spins and snarls at me. She swings her mace at me again, and again I narrowly dodge it. I grab her wrist and squeeze so that she drops the mace with her other hand she pushes against my face to make me fall over. Before I collapse, I manage to kick the mace a long way away. She wrestles me to the ground. She wraps her fingers around my neck. In the struggle I have dropped my spear and I am now too far away from it.

My vision dots with dark splodges and I feel her fingers tighten. I feel all the energy draw from me and with my last effort I knee her in the groin. She flies over the top of me and I quickly scramble on top of her. She kicks her legs in the air as I pin down her arms with my knees. She screams at me as I gasp in the air around me. It no longer smells like sweet berries; it smells thickly of blood. Before I gather what I'm doing, I pull one of the knives from my belt. She screams louder now. She calls for her fellow 'Careers'.

"Devyn! Brent! Help me! Erwin! Waldo! Pliny!" she bellows. "I'm over here."

I slit her throat as quickly as ripping cloth. I feel her warm blood drip down onto the cold concrete roof, and onto my hand. I look at my clothes and see that they too are dowsed in blood. I clamber off of her writhing body. The last few squirts of blood spout out of her throat and then her body goes rigid and I know it's over. I killed her.

I need to leave in case the other 'Careers' come and find me here. 5 against 1 isn't exactly fair and the odds would certainly not be in my favour. I reattach my blood-soaked knife to my belt, grab my spear and her mace, because she doesn't need it now, and I run back down the stairs. It's only a few levels before I feel dizzy again. I need to lie down, stop the bleeding. I run down the stairs as my vision becomes blurry. I reach the bottom floor, panting and sweating, and instead of running outside, I see a door under the stairs. It's well hidden yet I pull another plant in front, to hide it more. I yank open the door and close it quietly as the 'Careers' charge in. I hear them storm up the stairs. My heart pounds in my chest and my breath catches in my throat.

My vision dots again and I get a wave of dizziness. My head throbs as I slump down, exhausted, against the door. My vision blackens and I fall into a dark nightmare.

When I wake up, I realise that my ears are blocked as I cannot hear the dripping of the pipes that line the ceiling. I'm in a long, grey and damp corridor. Ah, water. I crawl over to the small pool that has collected on the floor. I stare at my reflection. I'm a mess. My face is covered in dried blood, not only from the huge cut on my forehead but from various smaller cuts around my face. I use the water to wash away the blood and I see a large bruise around the gouge on my forehead. At least I'm clean now. Well, cleaner.

My t-shirt is speckled in blood. I don't know if it's mine, or that girls. I can still see the blood on my hands. I scrub at it but it doesn't come off. I try everything but it's on me like a stain. I stand up, my legs threatening to buckle, and I slowly walk towards the flat wall at the end (picking up my spear and mace). I reach the cold wall and I place my damp hand on the cold, hard surface. I see a small gap to the side; just big enough to slip my hand in. At first, I thought it was a figment of my imagination. But with desperation and panic set in my heart, I reach in and the wall swoosh's open. A cold draft breezes in and I take a step into the dark staircase. The stairs go down and the light disappears with it. I take a few more unsteady steps inside and the door slide back behind me. Panic leaps up into my heart; I start banging on the solid wall. Then the rim starts glowing white and I try to calm my mind. _They haven't trapped me in here. They haven't,_ I think to myself. I look to the sides. I slip my hands into both edges, hoping to find a lever here too. And, I do.

The door slide back again, revealing the damp and dark corridor with its bloody puddles and dripping pipes. I relax slightly, as much as one can in these awful situations. I turn back and start walking down the stairs. Then a thought hits me: 'Am I allowed to be here?' If I'm not, will they send something to kill me? I walk on, regardless of that last thought, and down into a dark cellar. A cellar similar to the one I was locked in as a child. Every sense in me urges me to run but I am too exhausted to run anywhere. There's nothing in here, besides me.

I slump down the side wall and into the slit of light emanating from the grubby, long glass window I look out and see its ground level and it looks out over the centre of the arena. The bodies have gone and the 'cake' had now lowered into the ground creating a massive circle in the middle of the arena. My belly rumbles and breaks me out of my daze. I must have been asleep for hours. I'm not exactly sure how long. I'm so hungry; I need to find food. But how? I'm in no condition to even move. Maybe Ronald will help me.

I hear music far off in the distance. It grows louder and I realise it is The Isle's national anthem:

Honour, Glory and Perfection for our race;

The Isle can help anyone who knows their place;

Friendship and Freedom are our main aims;

Love and Affection for anyone who claims;

Strong and Courageous to anyone who knows;

In the Capitol anything goes;

The Isle is here to help those in need;

They are here to help those who plead.

The Isle is strong;

The Isle is mighty;

It will conquer those who oppose;

The Isle is wise;

The Isle is new;

It will open when all else, is closed.

For some reason, I feel obliged to sing along. So I do. I hate the song, I really do. It's such a lie. The Isle is one big lie. It makes me so angry to think that the people in the Capitol think that their way of life is right, when it's not.

Once the anthem finishes, I watch as the symbol of the Isle appears in the sky followed by all the dead Tributes. There are so many. I count them. 42 in total. I saw Bergwind; the girl from earlier. I now know it's still it's the first day, unfortunately. The dead Tributes are as follows: 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10, 13 (the boy who blew up), 19, 20, 21, 25, 28, 32, 34, 37, 39, 45, 50, 52, 54, 58, 61, 67, 72, 75, 76, 83, 86, 89, 90, 92, 95, 97, 100, 105, 106, 107, 109, 110, 112, 114 & 116.

Luckily, Cash and Shelby are not dead. But if I want to go home, they have to die. I just hope I don't have to kill them. Devyn is still alive. For now. I'm so hungry right now. I haven't eaten in ages. But where am I going to find food?

Then a thought hits me again. My backpack. I haven't checked in it. I take off my grey and black bag and unzip it. I pull out a long rope, an empty metal bottle, and a pot of matches and a packet of plasters with two bandages. Then there I see them. A packet of crumbled biscuits and a packet of dried fruit. Nothing with any juice in it. But none-the-less, I savour every bite of them even when my senses were telling me to just stuff my face. My stomach is satisfied but my mouth is dry. Maybe, I'll get some sleep tonight, but am I truly safe here? Do the 'Careers' know where I am? I doubt it. So to that 'comforting' thought I close my eyes and fall into a deep, haunted sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

I hardly slept at all last night. When I did manage to sleep, I would wake at the slightest sound, so it didn't help that I could hear the dripping pipes in the hall outside. I look out the long window to see the smudgy sun rising outside. I didn't hear any canons fire overnight. Maybe everyone was so tired from yesterday's bloodbath that they decided to rest. Not today though. The proper hunting starts today. I don't think they'll find me. If they do then I'll be trapped.

Smacking my lips, I decide to go find water and food. It's dangerous for me to walk out the front door. But I have no choice. I wish I'd run into the forest; maybe I'd have more cover. I've got to fight someone at some point. I can't hide in here forever. I exit the room and slowly open the door; checking for sleeping 'careers'. No one is there so quickly and quietly I slip out. I pause at the open doorway and look out to find an empty and eerily quiet city. If it wasn't the arena then it would be breath-taking.

I take a step toward the outside but a wave of heat crashes into me. I don't remember it this hot before. I slip outside as fast and silently as possible. I lean up against an alley wall waiting for someone to notice me. Nothing. I turn my attention behind me and see the forest rippling in the sunlight. I make a dash into the cover of the trees; my head still slightly pounding. It must look gruesome to everyone else. I can just imagine it. I'm glad I can't see it. The heat is really getting to me now so I stop running, and whilst panting, take off my jacket and stuff it into my bag. I'm sweating too much to keep running. I carry my spear with me, my knives tucked into my belt and boot with the mace poking out my bag with easy reach.

I walk on for what feels like a lifetime and my great need for water becomes greater. The heat is so intense I've already heard 6 canons. I don't know if they're from wounds from yesterday's bloodbath or from dehydration. No one in their right mind would be out hunting today. But then again the 'careers' can get what they want so they'll be out. I must make sure I don't find them.

I wish the Game Makers hadn't dressed me in these tight black trousers. It's sweltering out here, even in the shadow of the trees. I've never felt heat like this. We never get heat in the summer. It's always cold.

With my heavy feet and pounding head I walk on to find the water. After what feels like hours I sit down to take a break. The sweat has soaked me and I can't even begin to explain how thirsty I am. The blade on my spear glistens in the bright light. Rustling behind me startles me to my feet. I look behind me to see two people - a guy and a girl – strolling hand in hand. Great, a couple. A bird flies off above me and they turn to look. All they see is a small girl covered in blood holding many weapons. For a moment we stare at each other, not knowing whether to run or fight. If they fight me, I might not be able to win.

The girl lifts up and whispers something in the boys' ear. He smiles grimly which causes my heart to skip a beat. What did she say? As if answering my question, the boy lifts his bow and arrow up and fires at my throat. It narrowly misses. I duck back behind a tree as he charges towards me. I trip him and he falls with a thump to the soft, green, mossy ground. In this sprawled position it is easy to stab him in the back. I lift my spear up to do so but before I lower a scream sounds in my ear. Before I know what is happening I am on my back being suffocated by a large but delicate hand.

"Get her Konan. Get her." Says a female voice.

The girl grabs my fighting arms and pins them to my chest. Konan, the boy, lifts his bow up; his cheeks are flushed from embarrassment. He takes aim at my head. He draws back. If I can time this right, I won't die. Being an orphan means you're the recipient of some pretty awful beatings inside and out on the street. Twila and Joumana taught Dora and me a few things. I flip the girl onto her back as Konan fires his bow. The arrow pierces her neck as she is bigger than me. The sudden realisation of what just happened set in and Konan drops his bow in shock. De-armed I take this opportunity to take a knife and throw it at him. It hits him clear in the chest and he drops to the floor. Did I want to kill them? No. But they asked for it.

I collect what I can from them before the claw comes from the sky and gathers them for home. They had no water but they did have a bit of food. The girl had a bag with similar stuff to me except she had a coil for snares or something. I have gained a bow and its arrows and an axe from the girl. I decide that this search for water is futile with these bags so I return to my place without being spotted.

Once there I sort through my belongings. I count: five knives, one bow, 16 arrows, one axe, one mace and a spear. More than enough weapons to protect me. Down here it's cool and damp which helps me recover from outside. The weather has taken its toll and my arm muscles and legs feel like jelly. I eat what little food the girl has in her bag. I'm guessing the boy got it for her. She didn't seem that strong. If I had enough to drink then I would have killed her myself. Killed. I actually killed someone. More than one. What have I done? What will Teddy think? My eyes well up at the thought. What has he seen? I hope he doesn't think less of me. What am I even doing here? Why did I even agree to this? There's no way that Beetee can solve any of these monumental problems. Beetee! I rush to open my bag and yank my jacket out. The earrings clink. I forgot about these. I look closely at them. Their eyes seem glazed over like black beads. That must be the tiny cameras. I wonder if they have sound.

"Hello? Hello, is anybody watching?" I ask, staring at the eye. No reply. "I guess not."

I hear buzzing and see that the other earring has started to vibrate. It startles me so I throw it across the room, fearing a self-destruct or something. Eventually it stops and I crawl up to it. I find the earrings and find they are both flashing. I guess they're trying to tell me they're there or something so I say:

"So, you are there."

Immediately they stop flashing and I smile because from some strange reason it all feels ridiculously exciting.

"Ok, here's the deal: one flash no, two flashes yes. Understand?"

Two flashes.

What now?

"Is this Beetee?" I ask, my heart stops for a few seconds.

One flash.

For an unknown reason I am a little disappointed.

"Have you seen everything I've done?"

One flash.

"Everything except those two people?"

Two flashes.

"I wonder what they sounded like." I say to myself. As if answering my question a small sound of what sounds like shouting emerges from an earring. I think they're trying to show me but it soon dies out and there's one flash. I guess they can't do that.

"Do you know Ronald?"

Two flashes. Good. At least this one will know a little about The Isle.

"Will you still use the footage even if I die?"

Two flashes.

"If I survive can I come over to Panem?"

No answer. Of course I couldn't. That would be too obvious that something's going on.

"Stupid question."

Two flashes.

I smirk. Whoever it is on the other end is trying to be cocky with me. I'm about to ask another question when a beeping interrupts me. Reality kicks me and I dive for the nearest weapon: the axe. Gripping its handle I creep up the stairs. The faint beeping grows louder and when I open the door it echoes down the corridor. I walk outside to the staircase. Hooked to the banister is a parachute. Sponsors. Thank god. I yank it down and open the box. Inside is a cool metal flask. I open it to see it filled with clear, clean water. I close it, saving it for later. I go to close the metal tin but I hear a jangly sound at the bottom. I look and I see a round pendant with 'smile' engraved on it. My eyes well up at the thought of Twila and home. I discard the parachute in the cupboard under the stairs and run back to my room, carefully checking that I left no trace behind. Once back I stare at the necklace. Something I never noticed before was that the ball makes a delicate twinkly noise. It reminds me of Twila a lot. Thinking of her reminds me the reason she gave me the necklace. My birthday. It's usually around this time.

It would be rude not to wear it even if it will give my place away so I attach it around my neck. I pick up my jacket and cover myself as I sip at the water. For some reason it's become really cold in here.

I realise that if I want to live then I'll have to eliminate the opposition. Even if that does mean I'll have to kill to get there.

**xxxxx So that was the ninth chapter. Sorry I haven't written in so long - been caught up with school work and stuff. Please comment below on whether you like it so far. **

**What do you think will happen to Vivron next? Please comment below xxx**

**Hope you enjoyed it! xxxxx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

With my headache nearly gone, I slip on my jacket ready to head out again. I choose my weapon – axe – and head out again. I've worked out that my little room is soundproof as I witnessed the careers chase after a small boy and kill him. I'm not sure which sector he comes from.

I check for any sign of human life before I slip outside and back into the woods. I wonder for a while. A part of me is screaming at me telling me I should go back and hide but another part of me is saying: Why not? So I carry on walking till I'm completely lost. I turn back towards the direction I came in. Then there walking through the shrubbery are the 'Careers'.

I want to run but if I move they'll spot me. Instead, I freeze. But just like a dog sniffing out a cat, Brent, the muscly boy with sandy hair, looks straight at me and smiles. Not a kind smile either. A dark and twisted smile.

I turn and sprint in the opposite direction.

"Get her!" shouts one of the 'Careers'.

Thundering footsteps behind me signal they're all chasing after me. I must keep running else they'll kill me. I know that I have no chance against them; they're too strong. My heavy limbs wear me down and I find it increasingly difficult to run as fast as I can. Knives swirl through the air and stick in the passing trees. My heart thumps in my chest. I can't run for much longer.

Slam.

I fall to the floor and grasp at my now bleeding thigh. I yank out Devyn's knife and try to clamber to my feet. Every second I hear them getting closer. I hear Devyn's sly laugh and it's enough to get me running again. Well limping and running. The searing pain hits me and I sweat despite the freezing cold wind.

I feel as though the trees are closing in as plenty of branches rip through my face and clothes. Then a hand reaches out and roughly pulls me into a large hedge. Their hand clamps around my mouth to stop me from screaming out whilst their strong muscular arm wraps around my waist to stop me from running. A familiar scent wafts in the air and I relax from fighting with them. Cash.

Devyn and the 'Careers' crash past. Once they're further away I'm released from the vice like grip. Instead of hugging onto each other, Shelby runs forward and grips me tight; startled by her sudden show of emotions I hug her back.

"What happened to the three strike rule?" asks Cash.

"What happened to staying as far away from me as possible?" I reply.

He frowns at me. Shelby steps back and clears her throat – to regain her composure I presume.

I try to limp over to Cash but my leg stings at the slightest movement.

"Do you think you'll be able to go back to wherever you were hiding?" asks Shelby.

"Not now." I wince.

"Where were you?" asks Cash, taking my hand to help me stand.

"Oh just around." I lie. I can't tell them. They'll want to know everything.

"We were down by the Stream." Comments Shelby.

"There's a river?" I ask.

"Yeah, you really haven't gone out much." States Cash.

He looks me up and down. I'm aware that I'm covered in blood, bruises and cuts but he doesn't seem to mind that much.

"I'm guessing that's not all yours." Speculates Cash nodding to the blood.

I shake my head. I don't want to relive those memories but my mind flashes with the images of the dead.

"How many did you kill?" asks Cash, moving in close. My face twists into discomfort as I recall the blood and death.

"How many?" he pushes.

"Cash." Warns Shelby. She grips her tiny knife as she sees me grip my axe.

"You don't have to feel like this Vivron, just tell me."

I hesitate before answering. "Three." Cash lets out a sigh.

"What?"

"It's not as bad as I thought. From the state of you I thought it was more like ten than three." Cash replies with a reassuring smile.

"I didn't want to kill anyone but if I hadn't they would have killed me." I babble as my eyes well with tears.

Cash hugs me tightly to his chest. I don't want to cry but the guilt takes over me. As I wipe the tears from my cheeks, a canon fires.

"That could have been you." Whispers Cash.

"I don't think I would have cared." I murmur so quietly he doesn't hear me. And I think it's true. I don't care if I die anymore. If I died then everyone around me would be safer.

Time has passed. I'm not sure how long but now it's getting dark. Shelby has lit a tiny fire down by the stream and is cooking some animals Cash caught earlier. Cash helped me dress my wound using a bandage he had in his bag. Now I sit in the setting sun with Cash as he twirls a stick with his fingers.

"Have you seen anything interesting?" Asks Cash trying to make conversation.

"I haven't seen anything. You?" I reply.

"I've seen the Jabberjays. They started singing a song. How did it go? Oh, I don't know but it was hauntingly beautiful. It was further back in the arena though. Not here." He replies.

"Maybe I'll check it out later."

"I don't know, they might have gone."

"Well, if they have it's a shame."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shelby stamp out of the fire. She hops through the stream by the rocks beneath.

"Here, I think it's cooked properly." She hands me a bit of bird.

"Thanks."

We sit in silence for a while until the wind picks up and it gets really cold. We head into the forest to shelter but it doesn't seem to help.

"Have you had any sponsors yet?" I ask.

Cash shakes his head as does Shelby.

"Neither have I."

Another canon.

"I'm going to see if I can find some berries we can eat." I say as Cash and Shelby slump against a tree.

"Are you sure you can walk by yourself?" asks Cash.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I quickly reply. Before he can say anymore, I turn and walk the other way. Well, hobble the other way.

Once I'm out of sight I hear another beeping. I look around and see no one walking towards the sound. I shrug. It must be for me. I walk towards it and sure enough another parachute is hanging off of a tree branch. I open it; inside are a bag of berries and a note from Ronald:

You can't have my help if you are allied.

It hits me like a ton of bricks. The longer I stay with Cash and Shelby, the more alone I become. But I can't leave them.

I chuck the note into the bushes and take the berries back to them – discarding the bag before. They didn't question me about where they came from and how quickly I got them. Lucky too because if they'd have asked I would have told them everything. Maybe I don't need Ronald. Maybe I can take care of myself. But then again I'll most probably die. Maybe I can take care of myself. But then again I'll most probably die.


End file.
